Walking Your own Path
by FierySable
Summary: Ken+Omi. They have always walked a fine line between love and work, but when the edges start blurring, things get dangerous for both of them. Ken must reevaluate how important this relationship is to him...and how far he will go to save it. *LAST CHAPTER!
1. Prologue

Pairing: Shounain ai, Omi and Ken

Author's note: eh…I'm a newbie at writing for Weiss Kreuz…so please, use your cybernetic pen and correct any mistakes that I may have made please? And are they IC, OOC, or WAY OOC? Oi….*sweatdrop* I really wouldn't know…thank you, Arigato, merci beaucoup, and whatnot for reading this stupid excuse for a fic.

Pairing: Shounain ai, Omi and Ken

Walking your own path: Prologue

__

Omi…

The sky was dark…darker than it had any right to be. It was dark even with the stars twinkling wickedly like strings of multifaceted jewels on a silver chain; it was dark despite the soft reflection of florescent lights on the windowpane. The weatherman had proclaimed that spring had finally reached Tokyo and the buds of golden-green were soon to unfurl their leaves on the austere branches of the cherry blossoms. Or that was what the weatherman said. Then why did the air chill around him with the frost of winter? 

Ken pulled his brown leather jacket closer, trying to stave off the cold, albeit unsuccessfully, stuffing his already gloved hands into his pockets. Alone, he stared blindly into the sky, looking for some benediction in the cloud-strewn heavens, but what he saw did not comfort him. He had done it. He had gone and done it…fallen in love with Omi, fallen in love with that assassin with the angel's face…but that was impossible. 

"Baka…" He whispered, then more harshly, "BAKA!" He slammed his cast onto the wooden baluster, ignoring the residual ache that came with a broken arm. How could he? He was a Weiss. Falling in love with a teammate brought no one anything but pain. On a mission, Aya, Yohji…Omi…they trusted him. They trusted him to be able to do his job without letting his feelings get in the way of the mission. They trusted him not to screw up because of his emotions…yet that was precisely what he was doing: letting his emotions get in the way…and it had almost gotten them killed.

***

(Flashback)

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Ken's eyes swept briefly over his teammates, ascertaining whether they were ready or not. Sometimes, he still wondered how Aya and Yohji hid their slim, lanky forms so well in the almost nonexistent shadows, moving almost silently but for the soft shrrr-_shrr of their trench coats and the slight gleam of Yohji's glasses. But this was not the time to ask. Their target: Nawari Tenchi, leader of the Black Hand Organization (BHO). For the kidnap, rape, and callous murder of more than a hundred pre-adolescent children, Kriteker had ordered the death of the him and those who served as his guards and hirelings; a fitting end to a most deserving individual._

Ken checked his watch, timing it out carefully. They had already infiltrated the building and in two minutes, Omi would have hacked into the security system, disabling the spy cams and the trip-wire traps that seemed to be riddled throughout the whole damn building, especially centralizing around Nawari's office. All they had to do was wait for his signal.

All right…almost time…_Ken smiled grimly, clenching his fist. Immediately, steel claws protruded from his gloves, gleaming with deadly promise as he held it slightly in front of him. _Anysecondnow_…_

Suddenly before he could make his move, the door burst open on its own, slamming roughly against the wall with a resounding bang. Out of the corner of his eye, Ken saw the other two Weiss tense, frozen in the instant before they had been about to move into the room. Something was wrong…

"Hey boss, guess what? Got a little present for ya!" A dark-clad man with an unplaceable accent walked, or rather swaggered into the room, carrying a bundle of limp cloth over his right shoulder. Something clenched in Ken's stomach, an unfamiliar feeling of dread and horror, mingling with growing fury. It can't be…

__

"Really?" Nawari's nasal, high-pitched voice emerged from behind the long mahogany desk and Ken could here the impatient tapping of fingernails against wood, but he wasn't interested in that. His nerve endings were thrumming almost violently as he stared at Nawari's bodyguard, and his own breathing seemed to loud, rasping harshly in his own ears. The heat in his belly spiraled outwards, infecting his limbs, his eyes, as adrenaline rushed through his veins…it couldn't be… "What have you brought me, Yoko, another child? You seem to have manhandled this one a bit too roughly."

Yoko chuckled before tossing his burden onto the cold, marble floor with deliberate cruelty, eliciting a moan of pain from the still form. "Lookie lookie what I found, a little rat that got his hands caught in the wiring system, eh? What should we do with him, boss?" He kicked the bundle brutally, nudging it with his boot heel so it rolled around to reveal a bruised and battered face, a thin stream of blood already pooling beneath the swollen lip… 

Aya was signaling him to stay motionless lest he set off a hidden alarm, but Ken ignored him. His eyes narrowed into slits as he moved forward slightly into the light, breath coming out of his lungs in a hiss. He would recognize that baggy jacket and black bandana anywhere…Omi. That pile of shattered bone and lacerated body had Omi's face on it… 

"Sha-ne!" The war cry erupted from his throat was not of his volition as he charged at the guard, arm extended in a clawing gesture. Yoko looked up, the surprise in his dark green orbs quickly turning to sadistic pleasure as he pivoted on a heel, causing Ken to stumble a few steps, touching only a whisper of air before he caught himself enough to leap away as a meaty fist slammed into the ground where he had been only a few seconds ago. The floor fractured, hairline cracks racing outwards in a five point star, jagged edges going perilously close to where Omi's inert form lay.

"Well well, another pesky rodent, eh? And what's your name, pretty boy?" Yoko rose slowly, parting his lips to reveal his almost jagged teeth, some rotten from the root canal, some just black stubs among the sickly yellowish green of the others. He advanced in an indifferent, almost methodical manner as Ken tried to analyze the strength, the speed, of his opponent. From what he had seen, this man possessed both…but that wasn't going to stop him.

"Hunters of light that hunt the beasts of darkness," Ken spat out, crouching low to the floor. "Weiss!" 

He leapt for the other man's jugular again, but Yoko was too fast, grabbing onto his arm. Suddenly a flare of white-hot pain shot up his right side and he heard a sickening, wet crack, interpreting it accurately to mean the fracture of his Humerus. He managed to free himself cradling his arm as he backed away, bumping into something at his feet. He glanced down to reassure himself that Omi was still breathing before, fixing his gaze on the now circling bodyguard. 

"Kuso…"

"Come here little rat, rat, rat…" Yoko laughed mockingly, "come on over…"

"Kiss my ass!" Ken screamed, "You die now!_" But before he could even fully extend his claws again, he felt a fist encircling his neck, the touch almost as gentle as butterfly wings, before the fingers slammed closed, cutting off his air, cutting off his voice._

His last conscious memory was of the delighted smile on the other man's face, the fetid breath that blew across his own face with every breath the other took. And the pain of squeezing fingers, tighter, tighter…

"Oh no, little rat, you've got it wrong, you've got it all wrong. You see, I've_ got _you_."_

***

He slumped over the railing, wishing he could wash that memory from his mind. He had woken up later to find his arm in a cast and his voice hoarse from the damage to his windpipe, remnants of his beating exhibited in the bruises of cyclone green and wan yellow-violet that ringed his neck and face. Aya and Yohji too had looked worse for wear, although characteristically, Yohji only complained good-naturedly on the way that he had lost his shades during the battle. While he had attempted to stave off Yoko, it seemed that they had gone after the real target, only to find that he had already surrounded himself in a labyrinth of traps and mazes. They had returned just in time to keep Yoko from slitting his throat (Ken still didn't know whether he wanted to thank them or not) but the damn man had gotten away despite their best efforts.

In other words, mission failure, and it was his entire fault. If he had waited, formulated a plan before charging in there like a mad wild-cat, perhaps…

Ken dropped his head into his arms. He could still hear the cold accusation in Aya's emotionless voice as he said, "If you cannot trust in Omi; if you cannot trust in any of our judgement or abilities before you act, then you do not belong in Weiss."

A single tear slipped from the corner of his eye, tapering down to a thin line of wetness. _Aya…what if I have every faith in your abilities…but have lost faith in mine? Then what do I do?_

His head was bowed, so he missed the streak of fire shot across the night's sky, for a brief second illuminating Heaven's sable robe with hues of violet and crimson before fading into dusky black again. _I wish…that I could find some way to make it better._

***

Dawn was just breaking over Tokyo when Omi's room cracked open slightly and a man in a baggy leather jacket and jeans slipped into the room, closing the door soundlessly behind him. Silently, he studied the younger boy's harried face, noting the waxy pallor of his complexion, the dark rings around his eyes, and the way ever breath seemed to shake his thin form like the breeze would do leaves on a branch…

"Omi…" The boy didn't open his eyes, merely moaned, haunted by dark nightmares of his own. Ken sighed quietly, reaching into his inner pocket of his jacket to pull out a spray of morning glories, setting them beside Omi's head. "Sleep well, Omi. May we all one day meet again." He brushed Omi's sweat-soaked locks out of his face, calming him somewhat. God, he wanted to stay, just stay by the bedside and make sure that nothing bad would happen, protect him from the harm that came with an assassin's profession…

He pivoted around swiftly before a moment's indecision could make him weak, grabbing his backpack on the way out the door. He unlocked the flower shop enough to crawl under before rebolting and locking the door. His motorcycle was already waiting patiently outside, so he got on, inserting the key into the ignition. Something slipped from his pocket and he frowned slightly, bending to pick it up. The dried petals of a sunflower rested in his hands, glowing with brilliancy in the early morning. 

Briefly Omi's face flashed across his mind. Before a particularly difficult mission, Omi had given him the sunflower…_"Ken-kun, here's a sunflower to match your sunny disposition. Please accept it as a gift and take care of yourself!"_

Pushing the memory from his mind, Ken pressed on the gas pedal, tearing down the road as his vision blurred, the sunlight blinding him as it refracted on his tears, causing shimmering rainbows to dance before his eyes. There was nothing he could do right now, not until he could find his perspective, keep his calm. Otherwise, he would endanger yet another mission as soon as he saw Omi get hurt…

***

Omi tossed his head feverishly, lost in the middle of a fever dream. He reached his hand out blindly, the fingers that remained unbroken groping blindly for something that had been there, but no longer was. His arched his back before collapsing back into exhaustion, alternately burning and freezing in this hell of his own making. His fingers brushed the silky petals of the morning glories, disrupting them from their delicate place on his pillow. A single bloom tumbled from the bed, dropping to the floor to lay forlornly against the navy blue carpet.

"Ken-kun…"


	2. Scream in the Night

weiss2

Disclaimer: last time I checked…no.

Author's note: Thank you for your support in writing a second part. Um…this is going to be a series style kinda thing, not just a oneshot. And if you want to use it on your site, can you just email me and tell me where it is and whatnot? ^_^ I'd be glad to have my fic on it.

Walking Your Own Path: Part One

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Scream in the Night

Ken drove in a straight line, paving his path on the way from where he was to hell. The tears that had slipped from his eyes had long dried in chalky streaks in face of the unrelenting sun that shone with brutal cheer throughout the day. Why couldn't it be raining? Why did the goddamn world have to smile at his pain, why was the wind laughing when it should have been screaming? Damn, damn, DAMN....

The bike was running out of fuel, sputtering in protest as it tried valiantly to do as Ken urged, and go another mile…another two miles…anything to get away from the flower shop and…and…no, better to forget. Better to forget than live his whole life in pain and regret. Finally, the motorcycle heaved once, then stopped, exhausted, in the middle of the street. Oblivious to the curses and shrill yells of the other drivers that veered off wildly to avoid collision, Ken sat on the leather padded seat, hands clenched together in fists as he tried to come to terms with what he had done.

"Hey, you fucker, move to the side of the road!" 

"Bastard, you're gonna kill someone!" 

"MOVE IT!"

The blaring of car horns and a wave of cigarette smoke accompanied the harsh, taunting voices, washing over him in a choking cloud of acrid fumes. He closed his eyes from the sting of the dust particles, but made no effort to move out of the way of the incoming cars. All he could feel was numbness…no there as more than numbness there because he could also feel pain. And the pain was…

The gales from the passing autos buffeted at his jacket, almost knocking him off the bike, causing him to finally return to reality, and he looked around, bemused. _I should…get away from this traffic…someone might get hurt…_

Slowly, he reached to flash the emergency flashers, getting off to walk to the dead bike the sidewalk, but then a car screeched to a halt by him, and the driver's side window rolled down to reveal a friendly face.

"Hello, need some help?"

Startled, Ken looked up…and felt his jaw go slack. "Yur-yuriko?"

Blue eyes mirrored his surprise as Yuriko tipped down her sunglasses for a better look. "Ken-kun!? What are you doing _here_?!"

***

The teacup was set back on the oak table with a slight chime before Yuriko turned to regard the man sitting across from her with solemn chocolate brown eyes. "You're a long way from the flower shop, Ken…"

"Uh…hai. I had some…some…" Ken turned away, fist clenched so tightly that the Darjeeling spilled slightly over the sides of the porcelain. "Oh, shi-I'm sorry, I'll-"

"Don't worry about it!" Yuriko replied quickly, handing him a napkin. "You know me, I live like a slob anyway…must come out of working with bikes all the time, right?" She flashed him a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. She studied Ken with hidden anxiety as she reached for her tea again. It didn't take a genius to see that he had changed for the worse…he had grown thinner; the older laugh lines that had once touched the corners of his snapping cerulean eyes had been eclipsed by dark rings of stress and sleepless nights. Dark mahogany hair, once so fine to touch, had become lanky and oily from lack of attention…but it was his expression that really tugged at her heart. His perpetual grin and easy charm were gone, replaced by the face of a bewildered, haunted wraith that neither knew what he was doing in this world, nor cared.

"Uh…Ken…" Yuriko said carefully, "You look like you could use a place to crash a few nights."

Ken's lips turned up in a rueful grin as he raised his head from moping up the remains of the tea, "I look that bad?"

"Uh…" Yuriko smiled helplessly as she admitted, "You look like hell."

The momentary humor in Ken's eyes disappeared as he stared at the napkin as if it would reveal to him some divine truth that he needed to know. Brushing his hair back, he stood up and bowed slightly, "I don't want to intrude."

Yuriko laughed, waving her hand around the empty apartment before cocking an amused eyebrow at Ken, "On _what?_ Don't worry Ken, you're not intruding."

He hesitated for a second more before surrendering, eyes cast downward to fix firmly on the creamy-white carpet. "Arigato, but…I can't tell you…it's personal-"

Yuriko shook her head quickly, getting to her feet as well, "Baka-Ken…don't worry about it. What are friends for?" She smiled, taking his arm and yanking him out of the room when he seemed reluctant to move.

Kun stumbled after her, then he glanced her as she walked into another room, indicating that he should throw his stuff in the corner. "This is your room. Does it meet with your requirements?"

Instead of answering, Ken studied the woman in silence before asking quietly, "Why are you so kind…why are you so kind to _me_, after what I did…"

"About lying about going to Australia with me?" Yuriko finished, then smiled soberly, "Ken-kun…I realized how much I was asking of you, after a few months only! You had commitments and I was asking you to drop it all for me-"

"No…" Ken began, but Yuriko shot him a stern look.

"Don't lie." She admonished, "But it's been a long time, and…and I'm back, now." She shook her head. "Australia was nice…for a while. But something was missing…and… and I was going to come and see you eventua-"

"Stop." Yuriko's face froze at the harshness in Ken's voice, her eyes shooting up to see pain flash across Ken's features, see the way he stiffened and almost yanked away from her. His whole body was held as taut as a bowstring ready to snap. She had known that he couldn't want her enough to drop everything but this total denial…perversely, she felt hurt.

"But-"

"It can't _be_ like before, Yuriko…everything's changed since then." Ken looked away, hating the way her face went pale, the hurt that flashed in her eyes as easy to see as any book. "I'm sorry for causing you pain…I-I'll be-"

"Nonsense." Yuriko's face had smoothed back into firm concern, although a shadow of pain still lurked in her darkened eyes. "Stay the night. I've opened a bike shop of my own, so maybe you can help me get it off rock bottom." A faint smile played over her lips, and she tilted her head back slightly to regard the taller man. "I'll give you room and board and fix your bike, and in return, say you'll help me pay off a few debts I owe; then we'll call it even, okay?"

"Yuriko…"

She shook her head, hiding the tears that touched the corners of her eyes. "I know. I won't push you to do anything that you're not ready for." _But I wish you could trust me Ken…_

***

_Dark shapes hovering over me…black…gray…who are you? Please, stay away from me…someone...help me…help me please…KEN!!!!!!_

"Omi!" Hands were shaking him slightly, brushing the sweat-drenched locks of hair out of his face. "Omi, wake up, kid! Hell, I hate playing nurse…" The last statement more than anything, made his eyes fly open. His body was screaming in adrenaline-enhanced terror as well, but the stiff bandages and body cast wouldn't allow him to move so much as a muscle without hurting all over. His jaw muscles ached from containing the cry that was still vibrating in his throat and his eyes darted about fearfully, looking around the shadow drenched room for the specter of his past that had haunted his dreams, deepening his fever…

"Hey Omi…how about making this a little easier on me, huh?" Yohji's voice penetrated his delirium, causing him to turn tortured blue orbs on the taller man. Yohji grinned reassuringly, wiping the sweat off his face with a cold cloth, gently soothing the lines of fear from parched skin. "Calm down, Omi-kun, we'll have you up in a few days, okay?"

"Yohji…? What happened?" He could hear the weakness in his own voice, the unsteady way it trembled in delayed reaction, and shuddered, one hand capturing Yohji's wrist. "Where's Ken-kun? Is he okay? The last I remember…" Here he faltered as Yohji pushed up his new shades, turning his face away slightly. 

"Omi-kun…."

"Ken, where's Ken, Yohji? Is he hurt?" Omi tried to get out of bed, but his own feebleness, compounded by the hampering cloth and plaster of paris, did much in the way of obstructing his movements.

"Hey, hey! Calm down! You'll only hurt your-don't make me restrain you!" Yohji ordered sharply, "Ken's fine, Omi. You're our worst hurt member, that's all."

"Then why-"

"He's not here." Both blondes spun, or tried to spin, around to face the emotionless brunette that leaned against the doorframe, Yohji looking angry and exasperated while Omi looked absurdly panicked.

"Dammit, Aya, don't you have a single emotional bone in your body? You could have been a little more gentle about breaking the news!" 

Yohji's strident admonishment was eclipsed by Omi's more forceful whisper, "What are you hiding from me, Yohji-kun?"

"Omi-"

"Tell me! What happened to Ken!?"

"…" Yohji refused to meet the eyes of the frail boy that lay on the bed. The white cream of the bandages wrapped completely around him made him look thinner than already was, and his eyes were huge with fear above the slender protrusions of his cheekbones. 

"Yohji, please…what happened to Ken?" There was a whispered appeal in Omi's child-like soprano that stabbed straight into his listeners' guts, the worry, the anxiety, that no boy in high school should ever have to know, much less feel. Yet it was there, and the older pain was there in his eyes, haunted by the ghost of his father's memory and an uncertain past, and the newer agony of uncertainty. 

"Ken left Weiss, Omi," Yohji murmured, just as quietly. He couldn't bear to see the sudden wilting of his younger friend as suddenly, Omi's face appeared much older than its fifteen years. "Last week, the day you were hurt."

Omi grew still, his only movement the slight rise and fall of his chest. His fingers, straightened and supported by thin splints, clutched convulsively at the bedcloths, and a single tear fell from his eyes as they flew first to Yohji's averted face, then to the stoic, silence of Aya's. "You're lying."

"Omi-"

"No, you're lying! Ken wouldn't leave like this! He…he wouldn't leave Weiss!"

"He needed some time-"

"NO!" Omi struggled to a sitting position, ignoring the stabs of ice that went up his spine and convulsed the rest of his body in cracked pain, "Tell me you're lying. Tell me; it's okay, I won't be mad. It's all a joke, right? Yohji?" A drop of wetness streaked down his cheeks, staining the whiteness of the bandages. "Aya?"

Yohji shook his head, then stood up abruptly and walked out of the room, yanking Aya out of the room with him. "Baka." He whispered venomously, shooting a glare at Aya. "Fix this, Aya, you're the one who stuck your foot in it!" Then, shoving the taciturn redhead back into the room, he placed his cheerful façade back on as he walked into the shop. "Hell-o pretty lady, buying flowers today…Aya? No, Aya's busy today, maybe I can help you…?"

Omi stared down at his hands, two pale blobs of color, as tears rolled silently down his cheeks. He knew it wasn't good to cry; that it only brought more pain. But still...Fingers, worn rough with practice on a katana, gently eased the younger boy's hands open to receive a cluster of flowers that still retained their deep cerulean-violet brilliancy. For a moment, the significance of that action didn't penetrate Omi's mind and he looked up with wounded eyes touched with confusion. "Morning glories?"

"Hai." Aya confirmed quietly, "He left them on your pillow before he left. Yohji's kept good care of them for you."

"Omi smiled waterily, fingering the fragile oiled silk of the shy blooms. "The arrangement is perfect."

"I think he thought the same of you…Omi-kun." 

***

Alone now, but for the faint streak of moonlight that passed through the translucent sheen of his window, Omi sat on his bed, fingers still toying absently with the flowers in his hands. "Ken…"

Only Ken would have thought to give him the simple blooms of the bell-shaped morning glories, with their deep bruised sky on the edges that slowly became lighter until it reached the white of the blossom's throat. Purple for magic, love, friendship…white for purity. He understood Ken's message all too well; perhaps, he was the only one who understood it. _Then why did you leave?_

Omi's shoulders shook with silent tears, wracking his frail body with enough force to cause him to crumple into the sheets like a collapsible paper doll, easily ripped and tattered by careless actions. He felt shorn from the inside out, talons clawing into his belly, into his heart…He curled into a ball, head tucked in his arms in a futile gesture of defense…but there was never made a defense that could withstand pain.

Finally abandoning his silence, Omi threw back his head, tears, salty and cruel, anointing his cheeks, slipping into the lapels of his jacket to trail down his chest. "Ken-kun…KEN! DON'T ABANDON ME! DON'T ABANDON ME LIKE MY FATHER!! WHY DON'T YOU COME FOR ME???" 

The cry ripped out of Omi's throat, still raw from the choking and the lacerations, and his hands involuntarily crushed around the flowers, spilling their pungent fragrance into the room with gagging sweetness. Petals fell, stems were crushed, jabbing into the skin, and slowly, crimson began to mingle with the tears and the green sap, sticky and slick.

Two figures stood on the patio, dark shadows against the lighter silhouette of the light that was still shining good-naturedly from the flower shop door. Yohji hunched into his trench coat, bending his head to light a cigarette, his eyes more than a little shiny in the darkness. "Love…is such a sad thing, eh Aya?"

Two points of light gleamed back at him before Aya turned his face away, closing his eyes. "Hai."

"KEN!!!" 

tbc……


	3. Voice on the Phone

weiss3

Disclaimer: I own a sword…but it isn't Aya's. I own some shades, but they aren't Yohji's. I own some darts, but they're rubber tipped and there's no way I'll ever get gloves like Ken's. So technically…no.

Author's note: Arigato, minna-sans, for your wonderful reviews! Please forgive the time it took to post this but my muse has been wracking havoc on my mind and my teachers have been junking up my days…not a good combination, ne? Thank you, youjibaracuda for helping me beta and straighten out the various inconsistencies in some conversations Much luv! ^_~

Voice on the Phone

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"Ken-kun…" Then_, "KEN-KUN! DON'T ABANDON ME! DON'T ABANDON ME LIKE MY FATHER!! WHY DON'T YOU COME FOR ME???"_ Sweat tricked from his brow, slicking the oiled locks of his hair with wetness.

"_Ken!" _No…

"_KEN!" _No…no stop it…

"Hey, KEN!"

Ken shot up, almost tumbling from the bed as he looked wildly around, every muscle in his body tensed into combat readiness. Instead of the ominous flashes of steel and darkness, the blinding glare of yellow-white sunlight peaked through the pale blinds, drenching the room in various shades of orange and crimson. _Like blood_, He thought, with a shudder. Shakily he drew his hand across his brow, feeling like an aspen leaf blown in a strong gale.

"Kuso…" He muttered, then realized that the loud pounding was not from his heart, but a fist on the door.

"K-en, wake up! The shop's opening at eight o' clock today and you need to be there in half an hour! I left directions on the table and your bike is out front, so I'm gonna leave first okay? Are you even awake?? _Ken_!!" 

Yuriko's voice, loud and exasperated, penetrated the haze that seemed to envelop him and he shook his head slightly in confusion, before replying, "I'm awake…I'll be there, in half an hour."

"Good! Don't be late…ja!" The sound of footsteps quickly receded from his doorway and once again, he was left alone with his thoughts. 

Sighing quietly, he slowly got off the floor, raking his hands through his dark tresses before shaking his head in determination. He dragged on his jeans and baggy brown jacket in one hurried motion, checking his appearance absently in the mirror and then promptly left the room. Wandering into the kitchen, he smiled slightly at the steaming cup of coffee that had been left on the table for him. Aya had never understood why he liked the dark bittersweet liquid; Omi had tried it once, then winced at the scalding taste and turned back to his cup of Darjeeling with a forced smile. It had been too bitter, he had explained later, it reminded him of hopes and fantasies that one could always _dream_ of happening, but never would. 

Omi was like that, always able to feel things that were less apparent to other people. An empath, perhaps, Ken reflected, toying absently with the silver edged teaspoon. He felt people's pain as if it were his own. Despite his own problems, and he had many, he strove to bring a smile to other people's faces with a simple word or proffered flower, filched from a bouquet or snapped from a stem when he thought no one was looking. It was his greatest joy, hearing laughter…Ken jerked out of his memories, a little bit startled at himself. _How,_ he thought in frustration, _can a cup of _coffee_ make me think of him? This is getting out of hand!_

Ken raised the cup to his lips, then hesitated. All the sudden, he didn't feel much like coffee anymore. Abruptly, he grabbed the note on the desk and the brass key that lay beside it and headed for the door, leaving the dark tan liquid on the table. The door slammed, wobbling the slowly cooling liquid, causing little droplets to splash over the sides, slowly tracing its way down the mug to rest on the oak panels of the table.

***

"The Kawasaki?" Yuriko tipped her head to a side, unconsciously flipping back her hair as listened to a customer on the phone, "Yes, it's a brand new model, no…no, never been used. Well, if you want, we can bring it in for you and you can tell us if you like it…you will? Okay, we'll have it by Monday, is that a good time for you? Okay…okay…no, no, that's fine!" The bell on the door tinkled merrily and Yuriko glanced around and smiled absently as Ken walked through the door. Covering the mouthpiece, she said silently_, One moment_, before going back to the man on the other end. 

Ken nodded back and took the opportunity to take a glance around the shop. The not unpleasantly musky scent of oiled leather mixed with the sharper stench of gasoline fumes and old race pendants were tacked to the walls like triumphant banners. Bike parts, carburetors, spark plugs, wheels, all were stacked or displayed neatly, each in its particular place. 

"The bikes are in the back," Yuriko hung up the phone and grinned cheerfully as she watched Ken peruse the little room with an connoisseur's appreciation. "It's not much…but it's not bad, either, is it?" She glanced with proprietary pride around her, crossing her arms across her chest. "After working with Daren for a while, we both agreed that it was in our best interest to split. Different personalities, I guess. But now, he supplies the bikes and parts, and I get a cut of the profit for selling his stuff in Japan. It's not a bad deal, don't you think?"

"It's a really good deal." Ken admitted, hands stuffed into his pockets. 

Yuriko laughed at Ken's hesitant response and shrugged easily, "Well, we all know you can sell flowers, for what that's worth. Now…what do you know about bikes, hmmm?"

"I know as much as you do." Ken retorted, a little stung. 

If anything, Yuriko's grin widened as she came around the counter to stand in front of him, hands on her hips. Her eyebrow tipped mockingly as she said in a challenging manner, "Oh really…we'll see what you can do then, won't we?"

For the first time in a long time, Ken felt his own lips stretch into a real smile, barely a tug of the lips, but it was enough. _He'll be all right_, Yuriko decided in relief as he went to deal with a customer looking for a spare wheel. _It might take him a while, but he'll be all right…_

***

****

Three months later

__

Ken sighed, sprawling down in a chair as he accepted a Coke from Yuriko, grinning somewhat tiredly, "Has anyone told you you're a slave driver?" He asked, "Work from eight to eight, and still, you say we aren't finished with the day…what do I look like, a mule? Even…" He paused slightly, "Even Aya wasn't this bad…he at _least_ let us take half an hour off for lunch!" Unconsciously, a thread of wistful nostalgia entered his voice, but Yuriko's sensitive ears caught the strain of unhappiness in his voice.

Deciding the best course was to ignore it for the moment, Yuriko snorted, not the least impressed with his exaggerated act of exhaustion. "Give me a break! I woke up earlier than you did and you saw the schedule card. This place opens until nine, only an hour to go!" He groaned theatrically, slumping lower in his seat, but Yuriko was unfazed as she said cheerfully, "I told you I'd make you work for your stay, Hidaki!"

Ken snorted, sadness fleeing from his face as if it had never been there as he toasted her mockingly, "Cheers to that," he muttered, then cocked his head as the bell chimed again, a humorously tortured expression crossing his face. "Oh no…if I have to deal with another amateur motorcyclist rant on how he wants to enter the winter games next year…" He let the dire warning trail off, planting a hangdog expression on his face and causing Yuriko to laugh.

"All right…I'll take pity on you, just this once!" She rose to her feet, wincing at the pins and needles pricks of cramps. "But next time, you get to handle the next blue-haired granny looking for a thrill. Can't have my workers slack off!"

"Slack off!" Ken sputtered in protest, but Yuriko walked off before he could begin to list his complaints. He smiled wearily, shifting to find a comfortable position in the plastic fold-up chair as he swallowed a mouthful of the carbonated beverage. This had been what he had needed from the start: normality. Haggling, arguing, taking orders, and selling…he smiled in satisfaction, massaging his weaker arm. The cast had come off a few days ago, and it wasn't as strong as it had been, the muscles atrophying from lack of work. But it would get stronger. Being here, it soothed his soul. He had once believed there was nothing more important than being able to fulfill a mission, now he knew he was wrong. The most important thing in life was peace of mind.

"Of course it's the best quality!" Yuriko's indignant voice caused him to glance absently over at her to see who was the irate customer…and he almost choked. His eyes narrowed and he straightened, coming slowly out of his slouched position, hands fisting unconsciously at his side. 

"And _I_ said, that _this_," The man gave the offending motorcycle a contemptuous kick. "…is a piece of crap."

Yuriko's eyes darkened in anger, but she managed a reasonable voice as she said coldly, "If you believe so, then don't buy it. But don't damage the merchandise either. Forgive me if I do not see it fit to see you out the door." She kicked up the foot stand and grabbed the handlebars, prepared to walk the bike from the showroom, but the man blocked her way, an ugly grin curling his lips.

"Feisty bitch-"

"Is something wrong _sir_?" Ken stood up, setting down the empty can with deadly grace before he walked forward to stand beside Yuriko, a feral expression planted on his hard-planed face. The hulking, emerald-eyed man swung towards him, assessing the new threat, and a hard gleam of recognition crossed his face.

"So…this is where the rat lives." 

"Rat? Ken-kun, what does he mean?" Yuriko looked at Ken and gasped, stepping back from the man she didn't know. His handsome face, normally expressive in humor and teasing, had the frigidity of ice, but the fire, the burning fury just underneath the thin layer of opaque glass was the most fearful thing of all. It transformed him from a happy-go-lucky man, carelessly at ease with both irritable customer and little child, into…something else. A predator. A stalker…an assassin.

Yuriko shivered, stepping away from both men. Just then, she didn't know who was the more dangerous. "Ken-kun?" She whispered again, causing the other man to grin derisively.

"Yes _Ken-kun_, what does it mean? Ken-kun…such an endearment. Lovers? No…Friends certainly, so she must know, doesn't she? No? I'm surprised at you _Ken-kun…_keeping secrets, eh? Tell her." He invited mockingly, "Tell her who you are, who I am. What are you waiting for?"

Ken felt his muscles coil into tense readiness, feeling his world shatter in glass shards again. He didn't smile in anticipation although there was a cold glitter in his eyes as he said quietly, "If you wish to talk business, we will speak outside. Away from innocent bystanders…Yoko of the Black Hand." He stepped forward and pushed the bulkier man roughly towards the door, but nothing seemed to disturb his mask of cold amusement.

"You remembered my name? Charmed." Yoko chuckled softly, the notes of his laughter dropping like obsidian crystals pinging on a cymbal, then he shrugged lazily, never taking his eyes of Ken's still form. "But no, be patient…not everything is in its place yet. I merely came to buy a few goods…" Yoko glanced at Yuriko leeringly, wetting his lips with his tongue, and she shuddered, inching slightly behind Ken's taller form. "Who knew that such a visit would reap such great rewards, eh?" He bowed slightly, then still laughing to himself, pivoted and walked towards the door. "Take care of your friends, Weiss. You never know when a touch will spring the mousetrap," Yoko's eyes gleamed in the darkening shadows of the room as he added, "And if the mousetrap fails…well, there's always a cat to finish the job."

"Weiss? Rat? Ken, what is he talking about?" Yuriko tugged on Ken's jacket when Yoko had left, concern and fear still hovering in the depths of her honey-brown eyes. "Ken-kun, what aren't you telling me?"

Ken glanced down at her and tried to smile reassuringly, but his expression of veiled anger did not completely leave. "Don't worry Yuriko. Just someone I knew in another life, another time…he doesn't know what he's talking about." But still…He hesitated for a moment as Yuriko began closing shop and slipped silently to the back room on the pretext of putting a stack of parts away. Silently, he stared at the phone; it would be so easy to walk away, so easy to forget it all. He didn't owe them anything, and they didn't want him…so easy just to pretend today, right now, never happened.

He sighed then, and reached for the phone, because no matter how much he wanted to stay apart, he wouldn't…couldn't do that to them. Slowly, he dialed the chief of police's number. He fiddled anxiously with the phone wire, then wiped his hands on his jeans in a mixture of anticipation and dread. Since leaving, he wasn't sure how his welcome would be.

"Moshi moshi?" Greeted a voice cheerfully and Ken bowed his head, not realizing how much he had missed his former friends until now.

"Manx?" 

Immediately the phone clicked abruptly and there was a pleasant hum of classical music as he was put on hold. After a while, her voice came back on the line, warm with surprised pleasure. "This is a secure line, Siberian. You're back?" Ken gave a slight sound of denial, hating the immediate coldness that filled her voice. "I'm sorry, I must have mistaken you for someone else. How may I help you?"

"It…it's Ken, Manx. I need you to tell something to Persia for me." 

He twisted the phone wire in his hand, a stab of pain going through his heart when Manx's voice returned to its original pleasantness with no real intonation that he could read. It had all the emotion of granite; it was the voice she used to speak to strangers with. "I'm sorry, I don't know what you are talking about. If you would like to leave a message with the chief of police, I could-"

"_Please_…" Ken swallowed hard, whispering, "this is important." From his pocket, he withdrew the black wallet that he had picked off Yoko when he shoved the bloodthirsty killer out the door. He flipped to one of the inserts and added hoarsely, "Maybe you don't understand why I left…why I _had_ to leave. But Manx…I don't want to see Omi-kun killed, and we both know that Kriticker's going send Weiss on the road to hell with or without briefing."

"That is the path they chose-"

"Manx…" Ken took a deep breath, "Just trust me."

There was a subtle pause at the other end before Manx said quietly, "I don't trust Siberian. He left Weiss, forsook the white cross he willingly took to protect the innocents in this world. He left at the first sign of weakness and in doing so, broke all his oaths made to Kriteker, to Persia, and to Weiss. No, I don't trust the promises of Siberian at all." Then she sighed, a small sound of defeat and perhaps resignation as she added slowly, "But…I do trust Ken Hidaki's love of his friends…and I know _he_ would never hurt them. All right…_Ken_. Tell me what Persia…and Weiss…needs to know."

***

The flower shop was eerily silent; the dimming rays of the sun flashing into the transparent windows in shades of sickly vermilion and dark yellow-greens. In the haunting shadows of dusk, Yohji glowered at a flower, muttering to himself as he tried to coax it from its comfortable place in the soil. "You're getting too small for this tiny pot," He muttered, shoving up his sunglasses in vexation, "You're going to wither and die, then Aya's going to take his katana to my ass for not taking care of you. Maybe I'll just kill you myself and get it over with." When the bloom remained unimpressed by Yohji's threat, he threw down his spade, wiping his hands on a convenient towel. "Damn thing."

He was stretching his cramping back, when he noticed that Omi had wandered into the room. Beckoning him over with a wave, Yohji called, "Hey, Omi! Help me with this thing, will you? The roots aren't coming out and I swear, I've tried everything."

Instead of the cheery 'hai!' the old Omi would have given, _this_ one merely changed directions, hand outstretched for the garden spade. Not bothering to murmur gentle words to the reluctant bloom or light quips to Yohji, Omi wedged the tool into the earth, carefully scraping away the first layer of soil. Then he expertly flipped the plant over, letting the plant stay in his hand while the loose soil spilled like dark chocolate around his slightly spread fingers, over the spotlessly white tiles of the floor.

"Kuso!" Yohji cursed, throwing the towel on the offending mound of dark earth. He glowered at it then muttered, "That was exactly what I was trying _not_ to do, kid! Now I'm going to have to mop _all over again!_" 

The younger boy glanced at him, then shrugged almost indifferently, offering the plant into Yohji's care. "You should have used newspapers then. I'll be right back." He replied tonelessly, then ducked back out of the shop again, as silent as an aimlessly wandering wraith. Yohji sighed, scooping the dirt back into his callused palms. 

He stared broodingly at the small heap in his hand. Earth, terra, soil…whatever you called it, it was still dirt. "Just a bunch of shit!" Yohji said aloud, his voice echoing strangely in the crisp silence. Ever since Ken had left, this place had been plunged into a gloomy haze of apathy. Aya's silence was nothing strange, but Omi…Omi was walking that thin line between sanity and dementia. When things went bad, it was always Omi with his innocent, sparkling, smile, ready to cheer people up, encourage them with the 'next mission will go better.' But now? Silence. The damn kid was turning into another Aya! "As if we need another one." Yohji muttered, "I don't even know why we bother pretending anymore…"

"Because you need to keep your identities a secret." A feminine voice made him start violently and whirl around, hand going instinctively to the watch at his wrist. 

"Manx!" He relaxed minutely then grinned his famous play-boy grin, tossing the loam into the compost bin. Ignoring the mess on the floor for now, Yohji leaned against the wall, tipping up his shades. "You finally decided that I'm worth your time? When do you want our first date to be?" He sidled up to her and in that eternal game they played, Manx glared coolly and sidestepped his advances.

"No, I don't sleep with the people I work with." Manx's lips curled up slightly, a mischievous twinkle sparkling briefly in her eyes as she added, "And especially not with well-known lechers."

"You wound me!" Yohji laid his hand over his heart, wincing dramatically. Then in a complete reversal, he winked with devastating charm, asking, "Are you sure? I could make it worth your time…Manx." 

"Down, Fido." She said dryly, waving a sheaf of papers in her hand. She smiled, almost impishly, then sobered as she continued, "We have more information to help you on your mission again. Want to hear it?"

Yohji's façade of relaxed confidence and playfulness melted away into surprise and censor as he hissed lowly, "Are you crazy? Manx, Omi's-"

"Fine." A voice interrupted and the two looked up in almost guiltily at Omi as he hung his apron on one of the well-oiled pegs on the wall. He nodded listlessly at them; the slowly healing wounds on his face and neck all the more prominent for the pallor of his skin. Dark shadows ringed his eyes, making him look half-dead, but he shrugged at Manx's concerned expression, waving it away with a shake of the hand before asking, "We have a mission, Manx?"

***

Manx tossed the black wallet on the table, leaning back against the smooth plastered wall as she said, "An…informant of Kritiker's was able to breach BMO's security and secure some vital data needed for your mission. In the wallet, you'll find an indent card-key to most of the high security data banks…which include programs that run the external defense networks." She paused significantly before adding, "Am I making myself clear?"

"Crystal." Yohji murmured, fingering the tiny chip-card in his hand. "But won't they change the password once they find out this little one's missing?"

Manx tossed her crimson locks, brushing them from her face before answering, almost in amusement. "Yes, that would be intelligent of them, wouldn't it? Actually, that is their most logical move, so if you wish to take the mission…"

"The enemy building has to be infiltrated tonight." Aya finished. For a moment, the violet-eyed man stared at Manx, as if somehow divining some inner truth in her uncomfortable gaze, almost as if he knew… the moment passed, and Aya nodded sharply, rising to his feet. "Mission accepted."

Yohji nodded as, leaning forward slightly on his elbows as he muttered thoughtfully, "We'll need bait. Maybe we could-"

"I'll go." Yohji stiffened and Aya's feline eyes narrowed. They turned slowly to the youngest member of their team that had thus far remained silent, Yohji's face indicating his complete refusal while Aya merely looked at him with contemplating passivity. Omi gazed calmly at them with dead cerulean eyes, face void of emotion or fear as he repeated. "You two aren't young enough to pass for it. We can't just hire a child from the streets and send him; he wouldn't know what to do. I'll go."

Yohji leapt to his feet, rounding the small kitchen table to grab the younger boy by the shoulders and shake him, hard. Omi's bruised and lacerated face didn't change in expression at all as Yohji yelled harshly, "Omi no baka! Are you crazy? Look at you! Look at what happened to you already! Losing Ken like that really sent you over the deep end of the pool, didn't it? You've gone and lost it-"

"I don't care." When Yohji's grip tightened, Omi clenched his fists defiantly, yanking away from the older man. "I don't care! I'm not a kid so stop treating me like one!" Breathing heavily, he whirled to Manx, demanding, "Ken-kun sent the information. Ken infiltrated BMO and he sent the keys, the cards, the passwords…all through you. _He's _not doing this for Kritiker or Persia, is he? He's doing this for us, right? Am I right?" For a moment, their eyes locked, azure on azure, fire for fire as they tested each others' wills, willing them to break. 

Manx's eyes dropped first, the darkness of the room masking her expression as she murmured quietly, "Hai."

Omi nodded once, accepting this statement without question before he turned unnaturally bright eyes to his teammates, glaring at them with uncharacteristic fierceness…and the first buds of burgeoning hope: an emotion that they believed had died with Ken's leaving. "Then I'll believe in Ken…and I'll go."

"He betrayed Weiss once-" Aya began, but the reckless fury in Omi's gaze silenced him.

"Don't…say…that." Omi whispered coldly and in his eyes, Aya saw something of himself in that gaze. It reminded him of a seventeen-year-old boy that had become an assassin, a murderer, to avenge the death of his family. That boy's naivete, his pride, the deep passion that burnt from somewhere deep within his soul, were so familiar…Aya nodded, retracting his words.

"You'll wear a tracker on you at all times, Omi." He stated simply, and when the younger boy opened his mouth to argue, Aya warned implacably, "Don't argue, I won't give in a second time today." 

Omi hesitated, then nodded, eyes trailing from him to Yohji, who glared angrily at the far corner, refusing to speak to either of them. Omi swallowed hard, some of the bravado fleeing from his face as he whispered, "Yohji-kun….gomen. I know you're only trying to look out for me, but I have to believe in what I feel now. I have to trust Ken." Yohji had stiffened when Omi began to talk but reluctantly, he slid his gaze to downwards to meet the boy's imploring eyes, listening against his will and better judgement.

Quietly, he said, "Look at you. That great hulking bulldozer they call…what was it…Yoko, almost smashed you into bloody pulp. You don't think he can again? He'd recognize you in a heartbeat, considering you haven't completely healed yet. Do you think we can so easily replace you on the team with Ken already gone? It would be overkill, and you know it, Omi."

"But he _doesn't_ oversee _all_ the children coming in." Omi pointed out, "They have aids to do that, and a kid that's been roughed up isn't unusual there! Yohji-kun, _please_…just trust me for once! I _have to do this._" When Yohji opened his mouth to protest again, Omi took a deep breath and said softly, "If you had the chance...would you go if Asuka got the information for you?"

Yohji's jaw snapped shut and he stared at Omi, paling slightly. For a while, only silence permeated the room before a ghost of a smile quirked his unwilling lips upwards and he turned to Aya, shaking his head wryly. "He grew up when we weren't looking, didn't he, Aya? I wonder if I will be glad…or just terrified. All right kid, we'll trust you this time…but don't think you can always get your own way like this."

He put a hand around Omi's thin shoulders, giving the boy a slight clap on the back. Aya nodded in his slightly approving way, and for a second, contentment made Omi's lips curl in an answering smile that was all too rare nowadays. It was a smile of hope, of total faith. Azure eyes gleaming brightly, Omi said softly, "Yohji-kun, Aya…trust Ken too. He's still watching over us."

Tbc…

Author's note: Gomen, I just found out what the proper pairings in Weiss were (Omi+Yohji and Ken+Aya), but in the OAVs, I don't know, it sorta seemed like Ken and Omi had the stronger relationship, so I decided to build on that instead. If I offended any of you hard-core Weiss fanatics out there, sorry! 


	4. Burning Embers, Hidden Trap

Chapter 3: Burning Embers, Hidden Trap.

On the outsides, things did not seem to change. Yohji smiled and chatted with animated charm that dazzled women of all ages, while a stoic Aya systematically arranged flower bouquets and handed them to his customers, usually doe-eyed girls with blushing, adoring, smiles.Omi was still unable to show his face, bruised and marred by angry red welts and lacerations, so he stayed in his room, much to the dismay of the younger girls that crowded anxiously around Yohji, demanding an explanation for this unprecedented disappearance. The excuse was, Yohji explained, that 'poor Omi-kun' was out with a bad strain of the flu, and thus unable to receive visitors; instead, heaps of 'get well' flowers and cards were sent to him in a profusion of fragrance and crackling plastic wrappers. 

So on the outside, things didn't seem to change…Omi sighed, carefully inspecting a dart with careful precision, testing the gleaming point of the thin blade before slipping it into a hidden pocket at his sleeve. He wouldn't be going into the viper's pit unarmed, at least, Omi thought grimly. Secreted on various parts of his person were an assortment of darts and thin stilettos that could easily slice through flesh in one smooth, clean thrust. Satisfied that he was as heavily armed as possible, he turned to examine his face in the mirror and felt the first twinge of unease.

In Japan, a blonde with blue eyes was far too conspicuous, too exotic. Aya would help make some subtle changes on his appearances, a touch of brown dye in the hair, gray contacts; in fact, he should be here any minute. There was a quiet knock at the door and without waiting for an invitation, Yohji walked into the room, his usual grin slightly forced. "Omi, sit down. I'm going to do a makeover on you."

"Nani?!" Omi asked, a little suspiciously, "What happened to Aya?"

Yohji shrugged before gesturing the younger boy to sit on the floor as he explained, "Aya doesn't feel comfortable with you going into the building without a little more background information-"

"But I already _checked_ on the background info and layout yesterday!" Omi protested vehemently, a little hurt. "What, you guys think I've lost my mind too?"

Yohji glared at him, stilling the resentment that was evident in Omi's face as he reminded, "You haven't exactly been acting _normal_ around here, Omi! Can you blame Aya and me for being a little worried about you? Especially since you _insist _on going without us…we're going to make sure you're as safe as possible…and it's not like Kritiker gives a damn what happens to any of us, anyway." Yohji added, a trifle cynically.

"If Aya were going on the mission alone-"

"Then what would you be doing the whole night before?" Yohji challenged, "You forget; you're talking about people that actually _know_ you, kid. I don't recall _you _getting any sleep the night before Aya decided to try his hand at human chess! And didn't you hack into Takatori Reiji's scheduling plans so that Aya would know precisely where his target was when the time came? How long did that take you, three _days?_" 

Omi dropped his eyes from Yohji's penetrating gaze, a little ashamed at his own selfishness. He had been so concerned about his newfound independence, trying so hard to show Aya and Yohji, and maybe even that little part of himself that was always wondering, that he wasn't just any little child any more, that he was as good as any of them. But in he had forgotten one very important thing: there was more to Weiss than missions and teamwork. Weiss was family. 

And family took care of one another.

"Yohji…I-" 

"Omi no baka…" Yohji muttered, but his voic e held no rancor in it as he tipped up Omi's bowed head. "You may be all grown up, Omi, but we're not used to it yet, so at least _pretend_ that you still listen to Aya and me, okay kid? Hell, the only one that may have noticed it was Ken, and _he_ didn't say anything... though everyone sorta guessed by the way he was staring at you outta the corner of his eye." Yohji chuckled slightly, "Damn kids. And they say that us older guys have trouble expressing our emotions…"

The door creaked open, causing the two blondes to turn guiltily under Aya's violet-eyed glare as the redhead stepped into the room. Frowning slightly, Aya folded his arms at his chest. "You haven't started?"

"Yeah, well…" Yohji grinned and leapt to his feet, giving Aya a sound slap on the back. His clown's façade was back in place as he shrugged and waved cheerfully, walking out the door. "I figured if I waited a few minutes, you'd be up here anyway, so we wouldn't have to worry over whether I accidentally screwed up the hair dye and turned the kid's hair green instead of brown. Meanwhile, no one's minding the shop…and all those pretty ladies are just _waiting_ to meet my acquaintance, so…Aya, I leave Omi to your tender ministrations."

"Yohji?"

The taller man paused, turning his head slightly. "Yeah, kid?"

"Arigato…"

For a moment, there was silence before Yohji merely shrugged, pushing his shades up as a slight grin played around his mouth. "Whatever."

***

__

The victims are picked up on the dark streets and alleyways at night in a large white van…usually in the Fukagawa District…notorious for its yotoka, prostitutes of all ages. Children that choose this life are those that have been disowned or orphaned…so they will have no family or friends to note their absence and demand an investigation. The only ones that know what happens are the others that roam the streets with them, but when they try to file reports, authorities refuse to do anything. After all, who will listen to a whore?

Omi shuffled through the dim street, pulling his tattered jacket closer to his body against the biting winds that whispered against his bare face. His disguise had not been hard to make. Hair dye had turned his smooth locks of platinum blonde to a dirty chestnut color and contacts had dulled gleaming cerulean eyes to an insipid brown. Instead of his usual black on black, he had on jeans, torn and ripped in variety of places, a once-white shirt that stunk of fertilizer and a few things that Yohji had advised, "You don't want to know, so don't ask," and a ratty jacket that had so many holes that it did not block out the wind at all. The rest was easy. They had not even had to fake the shadows under his eyes or the gaunt look about his face and body; three months of tears and recriminations had done their job for them. 

Yohji had still been disturbed by Omi's less than hideous appearance, afraid that he would be kidnapped off the streets until, Omi reminded them patiently, that was what they were _trying_ to do after all. Still, it had been quite an uphill battle refusing to let Yohji hide the delicate bone structure of his face with pounds upon pounds of makeup and he might not have succeeded at all, until Aya finally stepped in and told the playboy assassin very firmly, "No."

And that was that.

Out of the corner of his eye, Omi could see a slow moving car coming behind him, the engine chugging lazily and he shuddered involuntarily, pulling the tattered jacket closer around his frail body. It was white, and the driver was driving much too slowly…Was this the one? It must be…it could be no other.

"Oi, child!" Omi stopped obediently, as the car sidled to a halt by the side of the road. He schooled his face into features of complete exhaustion, forlorn sadness, as if the light of hope had been extinguished from his very being. 

Turning his head slightly, he mumbled, "Hai, de gozaru…what pleases you?" He didn't even have to feign the hoarse, cracked quality of his voice as he peered up through his tumbledown bangs at the taller man. He was not a heavyset man, perhaps of even slender. Yet there were slight bulges of muscle and hard calluses on his fingers that gave lie to his deceptive appearance of defenseless sincerity. Even his smile was wide, seemed genuine, almost as if he was really sympathetic and concerned for this random child on the streets. But the eyes always told the truth. 

And this man…his eyes were as dead as stagnant water.

"Child, you are far from home tonight!"

Omi shuffled slowly around, keeping his features hidden as he ducked his head, seemingly in defeat. "I have no home, de gozaru. These streets are my room, my house, and the benches, my bed. The sun, the moon; they are my only lamplight so that I may sell my wares. Do I interest you?"

He didn't even have to turn around to hear the sliver of revulsion, disgust that the other man could not conceal quickly enough. "No…no, you do not. I mean, not in _that_ way…"

"I am not too young, de gozaru. I have been taught how to pleasure a woman. Or a man." Omi let a measure of desperation steal into his voice as he moved forward, gripping the other's spotless sleeve with his dirt encrusted hands. "It is cheap, sir; only a few yen-"

"Stop!" The other man yanked away, causing Omi to stumble a few steps, eyes wild with feigned fright, but in his mind's voice, he was chanting a different tune entirely. _Please let him believe me. Please let this work…it has to work! Please let him believe me…_and the unspoken plea would loop into another circle. Omi forced his feet to step back, one at a time, when all he wanted to do was force this man to take him to the Black Hand, but he could not seem too eager. 

The fly had to come to the spider.

As he hoped, the man recovered quickly, putting out a detaining hand on his shoulder and smiled, his kindness more forced than before, Omi noticed privately. "Oi, did I scare you? I apologize, child-"

"Not that much of a child, sir." Omi reminded in a small voice.

"Err…of course. However, this life is much too hard on one of your…delicate nature. I work for a business. A business that helps people such as you, gives them a cause to live for. I can take you away from this-" A careless hand waved over the flickering lights and dirty streets of Fukagawa. "-and make you something more."

"Something more, de gozaru?" Longing quavered on knifepoint with healthy suspicion in Omi's voice, and he prayed that the Black Hand agent could not sense the cynicism in the brown eyes he turned back up at the man. Something more indeed; he had _seen_ this 'something more', felt it under Yoko's heavy hand. His bruises and lacerations were from this 'something more' that the agent spoke of. 

Ken had _left_ because of it. 

"But I-"

"Come come, I don't have much time to waste." There was a steel-edged impatience in the man's voice, a restlessness that was barely hidden by his concerned façade. The fingers on his jacket tightened and began persuasively tugging the younger boy towards the waiting van. "I'll take you somewhere warm; feed you up a little, eh? You'd like that wouldn't you, being that you're nothing more than skin and bones!" Omi nodded slowly, dragging his feet unenthusiastically as the man pulled open the heavy doors of the van with a rusty squeal. 

"Here boy, get in!"

Omi only had time to see wide, terrified eyes staring out at him from huddled forms before he was yanked back, his cry of alarm muffled by a heavy hand clamping a kerchief around his nose and mouth.

__

Chloroform, He identified immediately, _mixed in with something else… _

Then, the world went black.

***

Aoshi grinned in satisfaction as the young boy slump in his arms, slender muscles relaxing under the affects of the drugs. 

"That was easy," He muttered, then wrinkled his nose in disgust. This stripling in his arms reeked; how long had he gone unwashed? Someone cried out and Aoshi turned smoldering eyes on the children. "Urasai!" He barked harshly, "Shut up and I won't kill you. Yet." His lips parted in an ugly smile. "You do as I say and we all get along. You do anything funny…" 

Sobs were quickly muffled and a girl's voice emerged from the dark shadows of the van. What was once a pretty soprano was cracked harshly, the sweetness of youth steeped with bitterness and quiet defiance. "You aren't very nice. We don't like you…you're a bad man to steal little children. You don't even take care of them. They're afraid, you shouldn't-"

"Shaddap!" Aoshi snarled, the last façade of kindness fading from the harsh lines of his face. He threw his latest catch into the fetid storage, the boy's frail body cracked painfully against the aluminum frame as he was slammed to the van floor. "Just take care that the brats don't scream, bitch. Remember, I don't need them. If I have to kill this pack of squealing pigs, that means that I'll just take more of you trash from the streets. It doesn't matter to me; I still get paid."

Shimmering sea-green eyes filled with tears and the young girl bit her trembling pink lip. "Papa wouldn't have let you do this-"

Aoshi smirked, "Then isn't it wonderful that _Papa_ isn't here to stop me? Even if he was still alive, he wouldn't be able to do anything about it, you little idiot. Now keep them quiet!" 

Bodies squirmed frantically away from the looming shadow, converging around the tattered skirts of the slightly older girl in a shuffle of forlorn whimpers and shivers. In response, the girl pulled them closer around her, cooing lightly to them as the van doors slammed, throwing everything once more into the stifling silence. In a moment, the van sputtered to life, jerking its inhabitants roughly around the small space as they made their way through the streets once more. 

As the vehicle made its way down the streets, the children gradually quieted under the girl's almost tender croons, curling up into groups of three and four as they attempted to warm themselves in the un-insulated van. When everything was silent but for the occasional sniffle or weeping, the girl finally crawled towards Omi's still form, her eyes curious. 

She poked his arm, whispering loudly, "Are you dead?" A muffled groan made her sit back on her heels to think. "Not dead." She decided. She pushed her matted blue hair from her face, then crossed her legs to sit down with a small thump. Carefully, she turned him over on his back, arranging his arms and legs more comfortably in a sleeping position. His face was scraped raw in some places and the girl peered closer at him. A shaft of light peeked through the window on the door, illuminating his face briefly and she gasped, springing back from him, eyes narrowed into dangerous slits. 

"Weiss," She hissed. For a second, she groped for a weapon that she no longer had, then wrinkled her nose when she found nothing but sleeping bodies within her reach. Slowly, she sat back down a ways back, never taking her eyes away from the boy. She giggled suddenly. 

"Stinks," She commented, then cuddled a ragged doll in her arms. The thing was old; one of the black button eyes drooping forlornly from a few threads and the once lustrous fur was oily and dirty from misuse. " For a minute she didn't speak, lost in thought. Then she shrugged prosaically and settled against the jouncing wall of the van, murmuring softly to the doll, "No…we shouldn't kill Weiss, Mr. Rabbit. Not yet. Maybe Weiss can help us get back to Papa…"

And Tot smiled.

***

Ken walked the length of his room, then with meticulous care, made a one hundred and eighty degree angle turn and retraced his steps. He felt like a trapped cat, his muscles tense and coiled to do _something_. By now, Manx would have gotten the information to Weiss and they would be carrying out the mission at the Black Hand Headquarters. All he could do was wait. He snorted, impatient with himself as he wheeled around again. 

And what was he waiting for? Whether Weiss succeeded or not, he would never know. Not unless he went back to the flower shop tomorrow and _that_ was not an option. The memories would be intolerable; memories of the shyly opening geranium buds as they turned in their pots towards the sun. Memories of the spotless, tiled floor and glass display cabinets that housed the newly budded plants…Memories of Aya and Yohji bickering over the care of this plant or that shrub…memories of Weiss_._

He sighed, slouching against the wall dejectedly. _It's all for the good._ He reminded himself silently, trying to ignore the insistent voice at the back of his mind. _I can't risk his life again; just being with him is…it's too distracting for both of us. It would have gotten him killed eventually…_

It's better this way.

Suddenly the phone shrilled harshly and he lunged at it, grabbing at the receiver eagerly. "Manx?"

There was a nasty chuckle. "No, _koi_. It's just me." The voice sent chills down Ken's spine, making him grip the telephone tighter in his fist. 

"You-!!"

"Now now, don't you want to hear what I'm going to say?" There was a cloying sweetness to his tone, dripping like rancid honey. "I'm missing my wallet; it seems to have gone missing in your _friend's_ little store. How strange…if I didn't know better, I would have thought that someone had stolen it from me and given the information to the other little rats down in their hidey-hole of a flowershop. That would be really annoying; after all, all my money was in there."

Ken gritted his teeth as the man laughed again. _Don't you ever stop laughing, you sonofabitch? And how the hell did you find out?! _"I don't know what you're talking about," He spat out. "Why the fuck would I give your wallet to a flower sellers?"

"Well, that's a good question; why don't you tell me? But I wouldn't take too long to ponder the question. Your biker friend is maybe getting a little hot under the collar…"

"Stay away from Yuriko!" Ken yelled and the other man exploded in laughter.

"The customer is always right, isn't that what the real truth is? And I am unsatisfied with the service, so I decided to return the package to the little lady…and send her_ straight to hell_."

"_NO!_"

But Yoko only laughed harder, his voice losing its saccharine sweetness as he taunted shrilly, "Who will you choose, little rat? The girl? Or that charming little boy-toy that my man Aoshi tells me he has found? Do you know he thought contacts and hair dye would change his appearance enough? Little fool, little fool, to trust that information that I planted in my wallet. He will make an excellent ornament chained to my bed, wouldn't he?"

"_Omi…_" 

Savagely, Ken flung the telephone at the wall, causing pieces of wire and chip to spring free from the plastic casing, pelting his face and chest. Already breathing hard, he ran down the stairs and jumped on his bike, speeding towards the bike shop.

__

It couldn't be. 

But it was. 

The inferno that used to be the shop cast a shadow of smoke and ash into the air, stirring in the wind like an angry cloud. The bikes, the parts, the shop that Yuriko had so lovingly shone and displayed were black with char and grease, and even as he watched, part o the roof buckled and collapsed, shattering glass and twisting metal with a loud shriek.

"_Yuriko!!_"

He hesitated. Omi was in trouble. If Weiss had taken his advice, Omi would be walking into a live trap…but he had Aya. And Yohji. Taking a deep breath, Ken plunged into the store, the flames enveloping his jacket like the tongues of a hungry dragon.

__

Aya, Yohji, take care of Omi…

I'll be right there.

tbc…

Author's note: err…Heh heh…Cliffhanger kinda. Yeah sorry. I haven't had time to write lately…that and no inspiration make for a bad couple. I'll try not to take another few months to write the next chapter tho!! ^_~ Please review minna…*smiles hopefully* arigato.


	5. Maze of Lies

AN: thank you so, so much for those wonderful reviews! ^_^ it makes me feel warm and fuzzy. N'wayz, this is the next part of the fic, focusing on Ken and Yuriko's relationship or lack thereof. The next part will be focusing mainly on Omi's situation. Please read! I hope you enjoy it.

Maze of Lies

The fire was unbearable, searing against his skin maliciously. Ken coughed, gagging slightly as thick clouds of roiling smoke made his eyes tear and he swiped them angrily, swearing under his breath. 

"Yuriko!" He shouted loudly, but any reply was obscured by the sound of the crackling fire snapping eagerly at the spilt oil like the tongues of a thousand tiny dragons. Ignoring the stinging tears that burned down his cheeks, he looked frantically around the room. The carefully stacked tire wheels had been deliberately knocked over, the rubber sliced into tatters by a knife. The engines, spare parts, set aside in their various boxes and containers, were strewn across the floor, ruined beyond repair as they slowly turned black from the heat. 

But Yuriko wasn't there.

Ken choked again and gasped for air, then moved forward obstinately, yelling Yuriko's name again. His voice had gone rough from the irritation of the smoke and he paused briefly to tear the hem of his sweater away and wrap it around his nose and mouth. It was getting painful to breathe, and the slight dizziness and buzzing in his ear signaled a decreasing supply of oxygen. He could very well die in here-

Pushing the thought aside, he shook his sweaty brown hair from his face fiercely, his eyes glowing like amber. _Later_ He thought angrily. _I'll have time to faint later, after this is all over. _He swung his arms ineffectually through the thick, roiling clouds, and ignored the crackling heat around him as he made for the back room. One of the moorings on the ceiling snapped, causing a flaming beam to splash into a shallow pool of oil and Ken flung his hand up as hot droplets splashed against his raw face, sending pain signals all along his body.

Finally, he made it to the door. He reached out to touch the handle hesitantly, then pulled back with a hiss. It glowed a bright, malevolent silver with a cherry-pink tinge and burned even through his leather gloves.

Raising what was left of his voice, he croaked hoarsely, "Yuriko?!"

"Ken!" A voice sobbed back immediately, "You're here…He locked me in and I've been calling and calling…"

"It'll…" Ken stopped to cough, a dry, papery sound hacking from his lungs. "It'll be okay. I'll get you out of there." _Somehow…_He clenched his hand and obediently, five claws emerged from their leather sheaths with a thick _shhiink_. Stepping back, he punched the gleaming blades into the oak door, dragging his hand diagonally across it. Five angry marks appeared on the door and Ken slashed at the panel over and over until the top layer of wood flaked off and ugly scratches marred the surface.

__

I haven't got this time, Ken thought, despairingly. Fatigue and pain were beginning to sap at his strength and too little was getting done too slow…_I'll never make it on time!_

As if to confirm his suspicion, Yuriko screamed, "The fire's coming closer to the door! Ken, hurry!" 

Her voice had lost its musical, cheerful quality, having long gone harsh in fear. Her throat sounded as raw as his felt and Ken gritted his teeth, eyeing the still-glowing handle to the door. There was no way that he could force the lock without having his hand burned to tatters. 

It was hopeless…

Something inside Ken balked; something reared up and taunted him in Aya's low, derisive voice. He could almost feel the coldness of those familiar icy orbs chilling the heat around him, making it a little easier to breathe. _So you're giving up after all. After all that bullshit about protecting and making sure no one gets hurt again because of you. If that is how you act, you were right to leave Weiss._

It's not like that Ken protested mentally, _I can't do anything anymore…_

That doesn't excuse you, chibi, This time it was Yohji. Yohji and his sunglasses and ever-present cigarette dangling from a mouth that always curled in a playboy's smile. _If everyone thought everything was hopeless at the slightest obstacle, then why the hell does anyone try? Why does Weiss exist to fight a dead cause?_

But-

If you trust yourself, Ken, then you can do anything. Omi's smile, his sparkling azure eyes and cheerful encouragement. Ken reached a hand forward slowly, and his conscious added softly, _And even if you don't completely trust yourself enough, others will trust you enough to make up the difference. _

Pain seared his hand as tiny licks of fire burned through the first layer of his glove to eat at his skin and Ken closed his eyes, pushing down hard on the lock. The metal mechanisms squealed in protest as the gears ground against each other. He almost retched as the smell of charred flesh joined the stringent rank of spilt gasoline and burning wood but he shook his head, refusing to give up. 

__

This is nothing, Siberian. You've taken worse on any other mission…

Hey, listen to Aya for a change, Yohji's voice chimed in encouragingly, and he added, _Remember Takatori. Nothing could get worse than that asshole right?_

The handle was bending, centimeter by centimeter and blood flowed from his hand, dripping onto the tile floor and sizzling into crimson steam. _I can do this…_

Yes. Omi's voice. Ken focused on it with all his determination, as though if he willed it all the more fiercely, the blonde's strength, his presence would be enough to keep him through this. Vaguely, he felt the ceiling's plaster start to fall, knew that his shoulder was aching, and not just from the strain he was putting on it. The fire was lapping eagerly at his booted feet but that too, he pushed aside. _Yes, Ken…you're almost there…_

Omi.

Stop talking…stop thinking right now! Omi's voice was harder, less soft and more demanding. _Just listen to me…just-_

Omi…

Just do it!

The lock finally broke with a loud clang and Ken threw the door open. Yuriko flung herself at him, sobbing breathlessly. Her hair was matted and wild; her face was streaked with soot and burned slightly as if she'd been in the sun too long. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, crying "I knew you'd come, I knew you'd come" over and over again as she trembled, shaking like an aspen leaf.

Finally, Ken grabbed her arm and began to tug her towards the door insistently as more of the ceiling plaster rained down on them. "Yuriko, we have to go now!" Ken ordered and she nodded, struggling to collect herself even though tears of relief and fear still streaked down her face. Together, they sprinted towards the growing sound of wailing sirens and panicked shouts, towards cool air and the supporting hands of paramedics that whisked them away from the rapid conflagration.

***

As the adrenaline rush subsided, his body began to remind him of all the abuse it had suffered, pinpricks of pain flaring across his shoulder and especially his right hand which throbbed and burned incessantly. Ken sighed wearily as the paramedic smoothed a jelly around the wound to keep it from blistering, then wrapped another light bandage across his palm and began to work on his shoulder where a falling beam had burned its way through the jacket. His whole body felt like one long ache…

"God, what the hell happened to you?" Cool liquid dripped onto his skin, suddenly making the blistering wound explode into a hot/cold ball of fire that had him seeing stars. He closed his eyes, reminding himself that he had received worse cuts before and that they had hurt a lot more than this…but somehow, he couldn't make himself believe that. 

So it was a few minutes before Ken pried his locked jaws open to bite out, "Friend…locked in a room. Had to break the handle…"

"Wow…" The man looked both appalled and impressed at the same time as he finally finished with the dressing. "That took guts."

"Stupidity." Ken muttered, a little embarrassed. Then he stood up, flexing his shoulder carefully before nodding his thanks. Ignoring the medic's protests about going to an actual doctor to for burn treatment and smoke inhalation, he hopped out of the ambulance. It was time to leave, time to go home. He began to walk away, only to catch sight of a lone woman, standing in front of the building, holding herself tightly as though she would shatter into a thousand crystal shards.

Yuriko.

Ken hesitated, then with a muttered curse, went to stand by her side, just as the roof came roaring down, sending the shop into collapse as if the whole thing was made of fragile, bamboo toothpicks. She stifled a moan, clasping her hands to her mouth as she continued to rock back and forth on her heels, tears trembling on the edges of her lashes and spilling down her long coils of mahogany hair.

"No…" Her voice came out in a pathetic plea, and she stepped forward, reaching out a trembling hand just as the south wall fell in. She choked on a strangled sob and would have stumbled towards the building if Ken hadn't caught a hold of her and forcibly stopped her. Yuriko barely paid attention to him, struggling away from the circle of his arms and screamed hysterically as the firefighters abandoned saving the building and yelled for everyone to move back. "No no no…!"

"Yuriko! Stop it, it's not worth your life!" Even though she fought him, he was still stronger dragged her away from the site of the disaster, awkwardly holding her when she finally collapsed, shoulders shaking in deep wracking sobs. Ken bowed his head, guilt and sorrow warring over him as he tried to comfort her. This was his fault. He had known that there was a good chance that if someone had found out his true identity, Yuriko would be the one that would pay the price. This shop was her pride, her life; she had poured everything into making it a success, and he had destroyed her dreams.

He. Ken Hidaki, the Siberian of Weiss.

After a while, her wild weeping died down into quiet hiccups and she no longer fought him, but seemed to accept his guidance into a chair with numb disbelief. Her hands were clenched into hard fists that deadened her knuckles into a sickly white and she finally looked up at him with haunted cerulean eyes. "Ken…"

"Right." Ken forced a smile to his lips as he sat down beside her but inside, he wished himself well on his way. Weiss needed him! He couldn't abandon them…but he couldn't abandon her, could he? Not when she had done so much for him. Tamping down on his increasing frustration, he avoided her gaze and fixed his eyes on the glowing embers that still flickered slightly amidst the roiling clouds. "It'll be okay, ne? Yuriko-san." 

She didn't respond, kept on staring at him before whispering finally, "You have somewhere you need to be, Ken-san…so go." Ken almost fell from his seat. His eyes must have reflected his astonishment and shock because Yuriko laughed softly, a rasping, broken sound. "Hai, Yoko…he…" A shudder went through her slender frame. "He told me…that you and your friends…you're all killers?" It was more of a statement than a question, as if she dared him to lie to her again.

He didn't. 

"Hai…" Unable to bear the hurt in her eyes, he took her hand. "Yuriko, let me explain."

"I don't want your explanations," Yuriko interrupted fiercely, shaking his hand away. "I know, so you don't have to explain." She bit her lips, and her voice softened a little as she lowered her eyes from his amber gaze. "I know…that you must have a good reason for doing what you do. I don't believe that the Ken that I knew…and the Ken that I _know_, would kill for no reason. That much, I'm sure that Yoko lied about. I…I have only one question. How much do you love that boy…the boy that Yoko called Omi? Does he make you happy?"

He looked at her and whispered, "Hai," very softly, almost indistinct from the noise around them. "He's the reason I kept on living when I thought I would die in the fire…because I hope that I'll see him again."

Yuriko smiled sadly, only a tinge of bitterness and longing in her expression. "Then it's only fair that I release you from your promise…you've done enough and it's time for you to leave." 

"But your store-" 

Pain flared in her eyes, darkening them to a sable black, but she said firmly, "I'll be fine…I'll…I'll ask one of my friends to come help clean up this mess." Ken knew how hard it was for her… she hated being beholden to someone else. Everything to her was fair exchange; she would do as much as someone would do for her. But now… 

"If you-" 

"_NO!_" Suddenly Yuriko's hand came forward and slapped him across the face with a loud crack. "Stop it! Do you know what I'm trying to say, Ken? _I don't want you here!"_ Pain flared in her chest, screaming at her to stop those hateful words, but Yuriko shoved the voice away. It was the only way he would go…he _had_ to go. It would kill him if he didn't so she _had_ to force him to go…

She jabbed a hard finger into his chest, narrowing her eyes into furious slits. "You could have told me this before I offered you the job. You could have told me the truth! But my shop…my _life_…had to burn down before I learned anything! And even then, you didn't tell me! _You…never…trusted…me!_" She took a deep breath, hating what came next, but forcing the words from between her lips nonetheless. "I hate you! I hate what you did to me! You're a killer! A cold-hearted, ice-blooded killer, and I actually trusted you!"

She saw him flinch, look away with an expression of deadened pain on his mobile face, but she ruthlessly finished what she set out to do. "I want you to leave, now! I never want to see you again!" Taking her keys from her pocket, she flung it viciously at his feet, hissing, "There! There's the last thing that I ever owned! My motorcycle. Take it and get as far as you can away from me!" He turned his face to stare at her, and she almost flung herself at him, wanting to sooth the anguish in his brown eyes but she didn't. She wanted to weep in anguish herself, but she had to be strong for both of them…since he wasn't. 

Slowly, he stood up and she let fresh tears trickle down her face as she watched the man that she loved leave her again. _But it's for his own good._ She reminded herself, biting her lip against the grief. _You can't force love where it isn't there and if you love him, you have to set him free so that he'll leave this place with no regrets…_

She watched him bend to pick up the fallen keys but didn't turn around as he walked past her towards the side of the street where her beloved Kawasaki was parked. Long after the sound of the motorcycle engine had faded and the sound of rubber tires on concrete squealed off into the distance, she stood there, trying to come to grips with her loss.

Only a few months ago, she had come back to Japan and found a shining new life as her own boss, beholden to absolutely no one. She had come back to find Ken who had walked back into her life again and for those few months, nothing could have been better.

Tonight, she had lost everything.

***

She didn't know how long she stood there, staring sightlessly into the night, but it was long enough for the wetness on her cheeks to evaporate into streaky white marks. It was long enough for the police to pull out of the area for the most part and it was just long enough for the fire to be finally controlled, leaving a forlorn pile of smoldering wood and plaster where her shop had once stood.

"Excuse me?"

She turned dazed eyes to face a woman that suddenly materialized at her side, and blinked distractedly. "Yes?"

The woman smiled, sympathy glowing in her eyes. She held out a hand and continued, "My name is Manx and I am the assistant to the chief of police. An investigation is taking place over the cause of the sudden fire in the area and I was hoping you could help me, Miss…?"

"Please, just call me Yuriko." Yuriko automatically too the proffered hand, confusion knitting slight creases across her forehead. "But I fail to understand…" 

"You will in a second." Suddenly, Manx turned very businesslike, straightening her crimson suit and yanking out a pen and pad of paper. "I have it from very reliable sources that the origin of the fire can be traced back to the large amounts of oil and gasoline that were in your motorcycle shop. That in itself is very suspicious-"

"What are you trying to imply?" Yuriko interrupted, suddenly tired. She dropped her face into her hands, then massaged her temples to stave off the growing throb. "I have no idea what happened."

"Of course." Manx replied doubtfully. Her pen was tapping impatiently against the pad before scribbling a line across the paper's surface. "All right then. Please explain the mess we found in your shop. Even before the fire began, witnesses claim to have seen vandals smashing windows and overturning displays. The police was called immediately, of course. However, they did not arrive fast enough to stop these men. Or women, as the case may be. So tell me-" Her hawk's eyes glittered in an almost predatory manner, "who would hate you so badly as to want you dead?"

"I don't know." Yuriko lied firmly, "It must have been a random act of vandalism. I was working in my shop late because of I was behind on the tax forms. Then three men just came in and locked me in the back room." Exhaustion made her voice quaver in helpless anger as she snapped, "My shop is gone, my life is in ruins, can you please just _leave me alone!_"

There was a flash across Manx's face that might have been approval but it was gone so fast that Yuriko barely had time to wonder about it before Manx crossed her arms over her chest, pursing her lips. "You aren't being very cooperative. One would almost think that you didn't _want_ the perpetrators caught."

"Of course I do!" Yuriko hissed furiously, weariness falling in the face of anger. _But just not by the police!_

"Then answer my questions and I'll try to make this as painless as possible." was the quick retort. "Now, your neighbors say you run the shop with the help of your…_friend_." She raised her brow, but Yuriko bit her lip and remained mutinously silent. "Alright. His name is Ken Hidaki, a man of dubious credentials. Is there any way that he has anything to do with this?"

"Ken would never try to hurt me!"

"Where is he now?"

"He's out." Yuriko bit off the word angrily. "He won't be back for a couple of days." _After what I said, he won't be back ever…_

"Where can I find him?"

"Listen, Miss Assistant to the Chief of Police," Finally, Yuriko lost her temper, standing over the slightly shorter woman with her hands clenched at her sides. "I'm tired of your implications and I'm tired of _you_. Ken had nothing to do with the bastards that broke into the shop. He saved my life and I won't have you maligning him like that. Any more of this crap, and I'm complaining to the department head for the way I've been treated!"

For a few seconds, the two locked gazes, testing each other's will. Manx dropped her eyes first, snapping the notepad shut. "Very well."

And then she smiled, approval and warmth radiating from her as she reached out and took Yuriko's hands. "I apologize sincerely and I would like to thank you so much for what you have done for us."

"Thank me?" Yuriko asked, completely confused at the sudden change. Manx didn't answer, just glanced up at the man that came to stand behind her. 

"Manx?" His voice was deep, measuring, and Manx shrugged a shoulder sheepishly, tossing back her coils of scarlet hair. 

"Hidaki's safe." Manx said, "She won't say anything." 

__

Wait a minute. _Hidaki's_ safe?! Before she had a chance to question this incredible situation, Yuriko suddenly found herself scrutinized by a dark brown eyes that seemed to see into her very soul, gauging her worth and her weaknesses all at once. Finally he nodded his head once and turned around, gesturing for Manx to come with him.

"Thank you."

"This is the second time you've thanked me and I don't understand!" Yuriko said hotly, frustrated by their reticence.

Manx laughed softly, "Okay then…let me spell it out for you. Thank you for healing our friend. Thank you for making him believe in his own self-worth and giving him a home when he had none. Thank you for knowing when he needed to go and forcing him to do leave."

"Thank you…for giving us back our Siberian."

Tbc…

AN: danke for reading, I hope you liked it! Please r&r…I'll give you cookies! *bargaining shamelessly* ^_~ bai and have a great, great new year!


	6. Where the Beginning Ends and the End Beg...

AN: sorry this took so long to come out; I'm rotating around four stories so I had to finish a chapter for the other three before I could write this. *sheepish smile* N'wayz, enjoy!

Where the Beginning Ends and the End Begins

When Omi came to, his first impressions were of the darkness and the dry, nasty taste at the back of his throat, a residual of chloroform poisoning. He groaned, raising himself on his forearms as he vainly tried to focus his eyes and almost fell back down as he felt the floor jolt under him. Immediately, his hand went to his pocket, feeling the reassuring weight of the wallet resting against his chest and fumbled in opening it. The identity card was still inside, whole and unbroken. Omi sighed in relief before putting his aching head in his hand, trying to form a decent thought.

__

So…I'm still in the transport. Well, that gives me some time to plan at least.

Shakily, he crawled to his knees, pushing his sweaty hair back from his face as he groped blindly for a handhold of some kind to keep him from jouncing along with van and felt his fingers stumble on a bare leg. The owner whimpered and crowded away from him and he realized with horror that there were children lying all around him. Children with big, hungry eyes and lanky hair. Children that had bruises and cuts marring their faces and tatters for clothes…

"Weiss is awake?" Omi spun around, instinctively flicking out one of his steel-tipped darts and his blue eyes clashed with azure eyes that were, if possible, even more brilliant than his. Tot gave a decisive little smile, hugging her stuffed animal closer to her. "Yes. Definitely awake."

"Tot-chan?" Omi asked uncertainly, and the cerulean-haired girl gave a little nod, furrowing her brows as she kept on staring at the weapon in his hand. Warily, he tucked it back into his jacket pocket, slowly inching away to sit at the opposite wall from her. She looked worse for wear; her notorious umbrella was missing and her gleaming blue locks were cast upon her shoulders in an oily mass as if they had been neglected for a long time. He couldn't tell in the dark, but she seemed thinner, more subdued than the vivacious, if somewhat infantile, girl that he had known and fought before. She looked beaten, but her chin still had that stubborn set and she was still pathetically defiant in her own way… "What are you doing here? Are you working for-"

The question seemed to make her wilt further, as if she was trying to meld into the metalwork of the van. "Hel-san, Papa-san…minna. I can't find them." She said quietly, and shivered, pulling her arms more tightly around herself. Omi widened his eyes slightly but said nothing. Apparently, the girl had not realized that the rest of Schrient were dead. "All that's left is me. And Mister Rabbit. And the bad men came and promised to take me back to Papa but," She looked upwards, as if for the first time seeing the cage that surrounded her. "He's not here either." She sighed, a little sound that was lost and forlorn. For a moment, she didn't say anything, as if thinking to herself, then she tipped her head, looking at him beneath heavy lashes. "What is Weiss doing here?"

Omi frowned. It would not do for that driver to hear that he was Weiss, he thought prosaically. It would ruin the whole plan. Nor could he tell her to call him Bombay; he might as well scream out 'yes, here I am! Weiss-boy and assassin!' He pondered awhile, then shook his head. There was no help for it…

"Omi." He corrected. "Tskioni Omi."

Tot knitted her brow with an almost kawaii expression of confusion across her face. "Weiss is here for Omi, Tskioni Omi?"

"_Iie_…" Omi shook his head. "My name is Omi." But the bewilderment in Tot's eyes grew instead.

Sitting up, she leaned forward, biting her tongue in concentration as she pointed to herself. "Tot." She said intently, and Omi nodded. 

"Tot."

The raising that same finger, she leveled it at Omi's chest, insisting, "Weiss."

"No…Omi." Omi reiterated then shook his head. He would have never thought that he would be sitting hostage in a van debating his own name with a member of the Schrient…if someone had told him that just a few days ago, he would have laughed himself sick. Granted, he would have probably had to kill the person for knowing what Schrient and Weiss were, but still…he would be laughing so hard that the man might have gotten away anyway. Scooting a little bit closer, he said firmly, "O-mi, Tot-chan. Watashi Omi desu."

Azure eyes reflected Tot's doubt but she nodded, albeit reluctantly. "Omi." She repeated, and rolled the word on her tongue awhile as if getting used to the sound of it. Then she glared at him again and asked accusingly, "What is Omi doing here?"

Omi winced. Wasn't that a loaded question, he thought ironically, but Tot's eyes had already widened as she leapt to the most obvious conclusion, given her experience with Weiss. (which usually meant on the wrong side of the katana…) "Weiss…_Omi_…is here to kill-Mmph!!"

Leaping forward, Omi pressed his hand firmly against her mouth so that she could only look at him with fearful eyes, not even bothering to struggle. "Tot, you can't say anything about Weiss, understand? It's very important!" He whispered insistently. For a wild moment, he wondered if he should kill her on the spot so as to not jeopardize the mission, but somehow, he couldn't bring himself to go immediately for his crossbow. Silently, the just stared at each other over his hand, seizing each other up until a tug at Omi's sleeve caused him to look down into mulish brown eyes.

"Don't hurt _o'neechan_." The little boy said, and tried ineffectually to pry Omi's fingers from Tot's mouth. _O'neechan?!_ But before he had a chance to explore that incredible idea, a girl, much battered but very young kicked him, and beat at him with small fists as she lisped angrily, "_Dame_!" 

Muttering a choice curse, Omi raised a hand to ward off the weak blows but Tot narrowed her eyes, shoving him away from the two youngsters roughly. The other children shrank away and drew nearer to Tot as he stumbled back and she looked at him with fiery eyes, more spirit than he had seen from her yet. "Don't hurt them." She hissed, and Omi saw that her hands were curled into claws as she tensed for battle…a de-clawed kitten challenging a tiger to a fight. 

A banging on the grate that separated the driver and the rest of the van made the would-be combatants shrink back into the shadows as Aoshi yelled, "Shaddap! Don't make me come back there cuz there'll be hell to pay, got that bitch? You keep the kids quiet or else we're gonna have to make an example of some of 'em!" 

Tot's eyes flashed and her lips clamped shut. Glancing warily at Omi, she dropped to her knees, gathering the children about her as she had done before. Under her crooning ministrations, they settled uneasily into a watchful somnolence and once again, the small, jouncing van was silently. Omi sighed, leaning back against the van wall; he still tired easily and this mission had already taken a seriously unexpected twist. On the periphery of his vision, he saw Tot crawl over and settle quietly next to him, tucking her chin on her upraised knees. 

For a few minutes, she didn't say anything, just stared quietly at him until he shifted uncomfortably and craned his neck around to meet her eyes. "_Nani_?"

Very softly, Tot replied, "Weiss is going to kill someone, ne?"

There was no point in lying when she already knew who he was, so Omi shrugged, murmuring, "Hai."

"The bad men who took the children?"

"Hai."

Tot was quiet once more, thinking hard about something. She chewed here lower lip thoughtfully and a furrow developed in her brow as she absentmindedly rocked her stuffed animal to and fro. When Omi thought she wouldn't say anything else, she spoke again, her voice laced with determination. "Tot will help. And Mr. Rabbit too, if Wei-Omi gives us his promise."

"Huh?" Omi widened his cerulean eyes at the girl, feeling a bit surprised. _Schrient_ helping _him_?! For a moment, he wanted to pinch himself to make sure he wasn't still unconscious, but Tot was watching him steadily, her eyes completely serious. Sitting up suspiciously, Omi stared at her before asking, "What promise?"

"If Tot helps, then you help us find Papa afterwards." Omi felt as if he had been poleaxed. Didn't she know…?! Taking the expression on his face as disbelief or perhaps, refusal, she insisted emphatically, "Tot can fight. She still remembers, and Omi will need help, ne? Until…," She crossed her fingers to signify the rest of Weiss, "come, ne? And Tot wants to go home too. She misses Papa and Hel-san."

Omi still hesitated. He hadn't counted on being saddled with a _girl_, especially one that was…had been, his enemy before. Besides, how could he tell her that her 'Papa', his brother Masafumi actually, had died when Schwarz at pulled down the roof that day? How could he fulfill _his_ part of the bargain if he agreed? And the implications of…

A small hand touched his arm, and he glanced up at her. For a second, he saw her as she was, a lonely girl that had been beaten so much emotionally that she still refused to grow up. A child in the body of a teenager, still innocent despite the pain that she had suffered and inflicted. 

And she wanted to go home. 

She lowered her eyes under his gaze and said quietly. "_Onegai_." But she would not beg.

Omi sighed again, wishing he had an extra strength Tylenol with him. Something told him that this would be anything but a normal mission. "Tot, you will need to know a few things…"

***

Omi handed Tot one of his darts, "So that you can defend yourself," he told her. 

She frowned, holding the small weapon at arm's length with an expression of _What is this and what do you want me to do with it?_ painted across her mobile face. Finally, she gingerly arranged her fingers around it as she would a knife, and then made a face of prim disgust. 

"Too small." She told him, and grabbed a hollow metal tube that was lashed to the side of the van. Tearing a strip of her skirt out (Omi blushed and looked away) she neatly tied the dart onto the end of a pole and then hefted the resultant rod experimentally. Except for the fact that it wasn't…well…an umbrella, it was pretty much like her old weapon if a little more inefficient.

"Will that thing actually work?" Omi asked doubtfully but Tot just gave him a withering, somewhat offended glare before returning to the task at hand, twisting the point just right. 

She finished just in time because suddenly, artificial light flared into the small window, causing the children to shrink away from the frosty glare. They began to whimper steadily, huddling together for comfort, and Tot hesitated, plainly wanting to soothe them. But there was no time for that, much less to explain. Omi glanced at Tot, then nodded grimly, coming to a half-crouch. A simple twist of his wrists brought his darts at his fingertips and Tot leveled her makeshift spear in front of her after carefully setting aside her bunny. 

The bar rasped against the van door and the lock turned, squealing unwillingly from its rusty place. Without ceremony or warning, the door was flung open and hot, vicious light poured into the dark van, momentarily blinding those inside. Before he fully recovered from the onslaught to his senses, Omi could feel the van shift under his feet; Tot was already moving.

"Oi! Trash-" His voice was strangled as he took in the sight of the tattered blue-haired girl lunging at him, pike outstretched in her arm and groped ineffectually for the gun hidden in his pocket. But he was too slow and only had time to widen his eyes fractionally before she buried her weapon in his throat, metal grating against his collarbone with an ugly moan. Blood, a crimson tide, sprayed across Tot's face and arms and she grinned sweetly into his horrified eyes. 

"Bye bye." She sang softly and yanked out the pike, causing him to slump to his knees and then topple slowly to the ground in a lifeless heap. Slowly, Omi climbed out after her, warning the children to stay in the van as he did so. Blood slowly pooled at his feet, reflective in the light, and Omi grimaced slightly. No matter how many times he saw death, he never quite got used to it. Maybe it was the stench, maybe it was the sight….maybe…well, maybe it was the memories.

He glanced at Tot and she turned, smiling at him as rivulets of scarlet marred her face, seeping into the caked dirt. She looked totally unconcerned with the stickiness of her hair as she pushed the matted mass from her face, murmuring quietly to herself. She almost seemed to have forgotten that a dead man lay at her feet…she still smiled cheerfully with all apparent good humor as she tried to wipe herself off with her hands.

"Tot?" Omi's voice came out in a croak, and he cleared his throat again. "Tot…where-"

"Papa." Tot interrupted, reading his mind. She looked at Omi with her strangely luminous eyes. "Papa taught Tot…to kill her 'tousan…'tousan was…a bad man. He hurt her. Always…he always hurt Tot…"

Omi shuddered. The look in those bright blue orbs was completely blank, devoid of regret, devoid of joy, devoid of everything but a yawning, aching, emptiness even though her lips were curved in the parody of happiness.

"Tot…"

She closed her eyes, shaking out her hair. Her smile quivered imperceptibly then and Omi almost missed her next words, they were so soft. "So Tot had to kill him…kill 'tousan…to save…to save…me."

For a moment, Omi said nothing, knowing that he had to complete his mission yet at the same time, loathing to interrupt the expression of her private pain. He didn't have to. Loud, mocking applause caused them both to tense and pivot around as a shadow slid away from the others. A man slowly stepped out from a doorway, never stopping in his clapping.

Omi's breath hissed out of his lungs and he slowly brought his crossbow around. "_Yoko_…"

"Very good, you managed to take out Aoshi. Too bad. Even that worthless idiot had _some_ uses after all. And who are you, little darling?" His cold green eyes swung towards Tot, a slow grin spreading across his face. "The boy-toy's girlfriend? Pity…here I thought that he and the rat were together. It might have saved me the trouble of burning down the bike shop. Or maybe not…the bitch at the counter got on my nerves."

A shudder ran through Tot's body but she didn't answer, gripping her pole more tightly but Omi jolted violently, his cerulean eyes beginning to blaze angrily.

__

Rat…"Ken," Omi whispered hoarsely, then more loudly, "What did you do to Ken, kuso!?"

"Ah…well…he and your friends should be here just in time to be greeting by a little…welcoming committee." He shrugged nonchalantly. "In the meantime, enjoy or unique hospitality and wait…"

It was a trap. If nothing, Omi understood this and from the fear and anger on Tot's face, she knew it as well. In a quick, fluid motion, Omi aimed and shot at Yoko, pulling Tot behind a nearby stack of goods. Ignoring Yoko's resultant curse, he looked around frantically for some way to escape, some way to-

"Omi-san!" Tot dropped her pike and began pulling at an iron grating, her knuckles going white with the effort. Beads of perspiration mingled with the dirt and blood caking her face, and her breath came out in ragged pants. "Omi! Help Tot! We must leave!" 

Omi took his eyes off Yoko for a brief second and saw that Tot had found a ventilation shaft. It would be big enough to crawl through and easy enough to break open. 

"Move!" He ordered tersely and kicked at the bars once, then twice, until they dented and fell in with a clatter. Rummaging around in his coat, he grabbed his wallet and pressed it into one of her hands, pushing the pike in her other. "Go. Find your way to the central computer; the identity card will let you go through any doors. Then insert this virus into the main computer bank. It'll unlock all the perimeter guards, understand?" He pushed her in the gaping metal hole insistently. "Now go!"

"Hai," She stammered, then gave a sharp nod of her head. "But Omi-"

"I'll hold the man off until you do what you must." He glanced at the van where frightened wails were coming from the children inside. "Go, Tot!" 

Without another word, she disappeared, making muffled rattles as she set off into the dark, leaving Omi to deal with the nightmares of his own.

***

Aya looked up at the impregnable building, his violet eyes cold and analytical as he tapped his gloved fingers on the hilt of his katana. Crouched beside him, Yohji was methodically shredding the grass at his feet, smoldering embers from his cigarette drifting lazily to the undergrowth. They were both restless; Weiss's style was not to wait in some overgrown orchard of trees while one of their members went haring off to do a mission alone. Granted, there were a few exceptions; you know, personal vendettas, suicide missions, things like that. But as a whole, Weiss had found that they worked better together than not. This mission was different.

And that made them nervous. Not to mention that Omi's white truck had already entered the building for fifteen minutes and the electric fence and guard lights had yet to flicker out and die. 

"Oi." 

Aya glanced down at Yohji before returning his eyes to the building, his whole body tensed. "Nani?"

"Is the _gaki_ taking too long or is it just me, Aya? It doesn't take five minutes for him to hack into a system and enable a total shutdown not to mention fifteen. He's way over time."

Aya shrugged, but there was a trace of unease in his normally stolid face as he countered, "He's taken longer before."

It wasn't going to do any good to counter that the only time Omi had taken longer was when they had tried to break into BMO headquarters the first time, so Yohji just shrugged impatiently and stood up, peering at the building above the hazy brown of his shades. He looked for some sign that Omi had disabled the defense network, but the lights remained brightly lit and he could still hear the faint click and whir of the security cameras around them. 

__

Well, isn't this a bitch. Yohji thought. Grim humor made his lips quirk up in a derisive smile and he leaned against a tree trunk, crossing his arms across his chest. _Aya no baka. When are you gonna finally allow us to move? When an hour's past and Omi-kun's dead?_ Only years of trust and more than a hundred missions made Yohji to stay hidden in the trees as Aya had ordered. He probably had something up his sleeve; he was probably waiting for some sign only he could see. Probably.

But that probably that Yohji was banking on was only just that, a probability. And that margin for error (because Aya was _not_ always right) made him nervous. Finally, after another five minutes had gone by and Aya had still made no effort to move his ass, Yohji turned to his partner, demanding, "Okay, redhead. I know that you either one, have got something up your sleeve, or two, have gone totally insane. When are we going to rescue the kid, huh? What the hell are you waiting for?"

The headlights of a motorcycle flashed and a powerful engine roared, coming to a screeching halt in front of the building. Calmly, Aya straightened his back and began walking towards the biker. 

"That."

Yohji's jaw hung open as Ken stumbled from the bike, cursing a streak that colored the air around him blue. Abruptly, he snapped his mouth shut and shook his head. "Damn…let me get this straight. We've been waiting here…because Aya wanted to play matchmaker?" Still shaking his head, he stood up and followed in Aya's wake as they both walked unerringly towards Ken.

It seemed that despite it all, Weiss was still going to make it through this after all…

Tbc…

AN: I know that in the TV series, Tot really didn't call herself by third person, but I did it anyway cuz it seems to go with her whole persona: trying to divorce herself from abuse so it wouldn't hurt her anymore. And it also seemed to make it a little more poignant when she called herself "me" which means that she's still aware of what happened to her and kinda aware that she's repressing her memories/feelings.

Yeah, if anyone's kinda, "huh?" about the title, it's just because the story began here in the Black Hand's Headquarters and it just about ends here too. Things are going to move quicker now, I'm thinking one or two more chapters and an epilogue should just about cover it. ^_^ 

If you enjoyed it, please review, onegai!


	7. Home?

Home?

Ken swore virulently, barely suppressing the urge to kick over the motorcycle in frustration as he fumbled with the foot brake. Pushing the vehicle to one side, he glared up at the ominously silent building, reckless fury…or was it fear?…making amber flecks float to the surface of his crystal green eyes. It looked the same as it had the first time he had been here…the cold chill of the searchlight, the shrill, metallic scream of the alarms…it was the same.

Except for one thing. This time he wouldn't fail; this time, it would end as it should have the first time. He snarled under his breath, then crouched, preparing to take a running leap at the solid concrete wall.

"I wouldn't do that." Instinctively, he spun around, claws unsheathed and gleaming with deadly promise. An amethyst gaze clashed with emerald and Ken unloosened slightly as Aya's flaming red hair became distinctive, even in the pitch black of the night. He looked at Ken measuringly, a strange, even disconcerting smile drifting across his usually impassive face as if he finally understood something that no one else did; understood and enjoyed keeping the secret. "Hidaki."

"Abassinian." Ken acknowledged stiffly, ignoring the fact that Aya no longer used his codename. He nodded briefly in greeting as Yohji emerged from the nearby corpse of trees. "Where's Bombay?"

The smile slid from Aya's face, and warily, he tipped his head upwards slightly to stare broodingly at the impenetrable building and Ken cursed again, absently raking his tumbledown amber locks away from his face. "Kami…this is all my fault. The wallet was a plant, that bastard wanted to lure Omi in there!" His face was twisted into a grim mask but in the depths of his eyes was something very much akin to despair. "We have to move now!"

"So, it was a trap." Aya replied coolly as though he had suspected as much. Glancing at Yohji, he nodded once, a sharp, crisp jerk of the head. "Make us an entrance." The blonde chuckled, then grinned wickedly, disappearing back into the cover of shadow and night, extracting a small device from the pocket of his overcoat. Only the faint light of his cigarette gave any indication to where he was as he set to work, choosing a weak portion of the wall to apply the explosive to. Aya turned back towards Ken. "You. Stay here."

"What?!" Ken hissed in disbelief, clenching his fists. "You can't do this to me! Goddamnit, he's in there, all alone, maybe dead. And you're telling me to stay put like I'm some kind of dog?! Well fuck you! Give me one reason why!" He glared belligerently at his one-time leader, face dark with rage. But Aya stared back with his ice-cold violet eyes, his face stoical and yet, silently accusing.

"You are not Weiss." 

There was a finality to that statement that made Ken's blood run cold with dread and he gripped his hands tighter until his knuckles turned white. "Aya-"

"You are Ken Hidaki, traitor to Weiss Kreuz and no longer Siberian. When you cast aside your burden, you renounced Kriticker and Weiss and became a normal civilian. You no longer have any part in this…you no longer _wanted_ a part of this." His eyes never left Ken's face as he said softly, "Tell me if I have said anything inaccurate."

"It wasn't like that." Ken's shoulders slumped slightly, but he raised his face to gaze steadily into Aya's eyes, "It was never like that."

"You left."

"I needed some time-"

"Now you have a lifetime's worth."

"God, what the hell did you want me to do, Aya?" Ken burst out, releasing his pent up frustration. "After that mission, you just as much told me that I didn't deserve to be in Weiss, that I needed some time to cool down…well I've been taking that time to cool…to think…" He took a deep, shuddering breath and continued determinedly, "It was killing me to see Omi hurt. It was killing me because I was an idiot, and I knew I was an idiot. God, you could have all gotten killed because I turned into a damn berserker; you think I wanted to risk that again? Do you know how much I wanted to die after that? How much I wished that Yoko had just killed me? Well I did!" Ken slumped against the side of the concrete wall, all of the fight and defiance suddenly draining from his face, "But in the last few weeks, I finally figured it out…"

"What?" Aya prompted, his voice emotionless, but his eyes were no longer that shade of frigid ice, warming slightly perhaps.

"I…just can't hide away from this anymore…"He gestured vaguely around him, his expression troubled, "Once you're Weiss, you can't change…sometimes I feel like a moth being drawn to a candle, knowing the risk off being burnt yet always attracted to the warmth. Once you're Weiss, you can't be anything else. After a while…" His voice grew softer, almost resigned, "after a while, you don't really want to be anything else because…because something's missing when you're not."

For a moment, silence reigned between the two, tension that was stretched to the breaking point like one of Yohji's wires until a dull thud caused both of them to jerk their head up, weapons up in an instinctive response. Yohji coughed, appearing out of a cloud of dust and he scowled darkly as the fine gray particles settled around his shoulders like an extra, unwanted dye job. 

"We're in." He dusted disgustedly at the fine film before looking up at his teammates over the rim of his shades. "Now if you're finished testing the kid, I suggest we get in there before all of the guards you hear yelling and screaming actually do come for our blood." His smoky green eyes flickered a little and old humor touched his face. "Just like old times, eh, Siberian?"

Ken looked up and felt the coil of fear that had been choking his heart begin to loosen a little. "Yes," He murmured, "Just like old times."

***

The sounds of fighting faded behind her and she closed her eyes for a moment, trying to ignore the feeling of claustrophobia. She had felt this way before, with the fire roaring around her as her Papa screamed…the house had crashed down around her that other time too.

Tot panted, deathly afraid as she crawled through the narrow metal corridors of the ventilation system. Little tremors shook her frail body as she tried to ignore the looming shadows and strangely still patches of light that flashed bright red against the reflective surfaces of the wall. Even the light click of her broken nails against the hollow floor echoed and reechoed, sounding much too loud in her ears.

__

Weiss no baka she thought, a trifle petulantly, _what is Tot going to do now? _She pushed her heavy hair away from her face, biting her lower lip before tipping her head up, closing her eyes to listen to the slight thrum in the air. _Generator_, she realized and moved cautiously forward, listening to the turbine's noisy whine. _Wherever there is power… _Quickly, she maneuvered the narrow pathways, ignoring the clatter of her body against the hollow aluminum as she followed the shrill keen until it pounded against her eardrums in a painful tandem.

Twice, she backtracked as she came to a dead end and more than once, she had to forcibly stop herself from sitting back on her heels and merely weeping in frustration. _Papa is waiting_, she admonished herself sternly each time, _Weiss said they would help Tot find them so Tot must help Weiss. _She repeated that litany over and over in her head until she finally came to a chamber where the fan roared the loudest and peered through the narrow, barred grate, trying to stop her heart's loud slam against her ribcage.

"Ah?" She whispered softly to herself. Her aquamarine eyes widened in surprise and childish pleasure as she noted the many camera screens and computer consoles lined neatly against the east wall of the room. Many lights flickered and scattered in random patterns, chasing each other across memory boards and Tot smiled triumphantly to herself. "Found it!"

Some of her pleasure faded slightly as she saw the five guards at the doorway however, and she frowned, a furrow developing between her wideset eyes. She sat back against the side of the shaft, chewing on her thumbnail as she thought. _Bad men, good men?_ She asked herself and crept over to peer at them again. Dressed in dull brown uniforms, they stood at militant attention, snapping orders and counter-orders as angry crimson lights flashed warningly around them. From the communication systems emitted loud, panicked yells and screeches and minor explosions that filled the monitors with pictures of dust and fire, then only blackness. Something was happening, Tot thought absently, but she pushed the thought aside, intent on finishing her mission.

Tot sighed, and began working the bars apart carefully with the tip of her blade, rocking the long handle gently back and forth until the grate gave way, one bar at a time. Good men…bad men…Papa wasn't here to tell her which was which. And they were keeping her from her goal so she had to assume they were bad. Wishing that Schrient was with her, she took a deep breath as the last bar dropped from her trembling fingers and she clutched the pike more closely to her. She had never done this alone…she always had someone to tell her what needed to be done.

But…

But…

But she was the only one here. 

And she wanted to go home.

Launching herself from her hiding place with clumsy grace, she took the first man easily, slicing the thin dart across his neck in a neat kill. He slumped across his monitor, crimson pouring over the fingers that had numbly come up in a defensive gesture. Not taking time to ponder over what she had done, Tot pivoted on a heel and swung her pike in a wide arc, catching another guard across the chest. He slammed against the flickering panels, a look of dazed confusion on his face as he slid down the wall. A small, almost sad smile played around Tot's lips as she nimbly brought her weapon up yet again…

It was over all too soon.

For a moment, she stared at the chaos in the room, the bullet scars on the metal frames and monitors, the fallen bodies, draped in various positions of fetal unconsciousness…all dead. Papa had taught her well…

Shivering uncontrollably, she dully tried to wipe the sticky wetness from her face and body, but blood seemed to saturate the very fiber of her clothes, seeping into the pores of her skin. The metallic tang of death clung to her and somewhere in the back of her mind, past the childish façade she had erected to protect herself, she realized that she would never be clean again. Moving woodenly, she sat at one of the consoles, eyes wandering slowly over the quickly flickering lights.

__

Tot…can't stop shaking…She thought in a daze, then shook her head, droplets of blood coming free from her sodden locks. Slipping the plastic-covered disc from Omi's wallet, she pressed it into the slot, watching the red light blinking several times before turning green. The monitor before her blanked obsidian before a blue message scrolled across the page.

█ Insert security ident. 

Taking out Yoko's stolen identity chip, she punched in the correct serial number, then waited a few seconds more as the computer processed the information. Almost unconsciously, she curled in on herself, forming a half-fetal ball as if she was trying to keep herself from falling apart by sheer will. _Soon…soon this will be over…_A sobbed whimpered escaped her throat and she pulled her arms more tightly into herself, repeating the litany that had kept her strength up so far. _I'll get to see Papa soon…_

█ Accepted. Viral Prgm initiated. Y/N?

█ Y E S

The monitor flickered again, almost as if it were protesting this loss of its sentience, then red warning messages flashed across the screen, windows opening one after the other to proclaim their impairment.

█ FIREWALL DISABLED

█ SECURITY CAMS DISABLED

█ TRAPWIRE DISABLED

Turning her face from the bright red screen, she grabbed at Omi's wallet, stuffing the disc back into its proper jacket but her hands were trembling so badly that the wallets entire contents spilled onto the blood-soaked floor, scattering ID cards, hacking tools, and photographs. With a cry of dismay, Tot scooped up the ruined pictures, intending to clip them back into place, then she stopped, her eyes riveted on the photos. Ones of Omi laughing with the three other members of Weiss, fighting Ken for what seemed to be the last cherry on an ice cream sundae, and…

She almost stopped breathing. Carefully, she raised a finger and traced a familiar photographed face, a cracked whisper of "Papa…" emitting from between her shuddering lips. Why did Omi have a picture of Papa in his wallet? A little taller and off to a side, Papa's older brother was there too but…

An impishly grinning toddler was held between them, cobalt blue eyes twinkling merrily as he burbled in silent delight. A thatch of unruly blonde hair was cast wildly to one side. Tot's eyes widened first in surprise, then dawning understanding and alarm.

"Omi is Papa's itouto!" Grabbing her makeshift spear, she darted down the metal corridors again, filled with a sense of urgency that she had not felt before. "The bad man is trying to kill Papa's itouto!!"

***

Ken looked up, startled as the blinding guard lights suddenly switched off, the power suddenly dying around him. Craning his head, he looked blindly around him as darkness descended across his vision.

"What the h-?!"

"Someone inserted the virus." Aya's cool, unflappable voice was just at his elbow, "The defense network has been breached." 

Ken nodded shortly, knowing that Aya couldn't see that movement in the total darkness anyway. "Where did the van enter?"

"Garage. Yoko is the primary target; we get him before worrying about anything else. Then I will take out Nawari Tenshi while you and Balanese clean up." There was enough warning in Aya's voice that Ken swallowed his protests and reluctantly agreed. Tearful reunions could wait until _after_ the target was taken care of. As they neared the garage, Ken clenched his fist tightly, letting the five sharp claws unsheath from between his fingers. He flattened himself to the side of the door, waiting as Yohji quickly picked the lock with his nimble fingers. His heart was pounding in his ears as faintly, through the aluminum door, sounds of fighting could be heard.

Aya glared coldly at him, all too aware of his conflicting emotions. "Siberian," His voice was soft, commanding, "Allow Balanese to enter first and immobilize the target. Our short range weapons are useless until then." Ken nodded, pressing his lips together tightly to keep his instinctive protest from spilling out. Instead, he fidgeted anxiously until he heard the telltale _snick_ of the tumblers tumbling open and pinned his eyes on Yohji, who nodded triumphantly.

Without further ado, the tall blonde sprang to his feet and crashing through the useless door with Ken and Aya hot on his heels. Ken took in the scene with one quick glance, even as Yohji already assessed the threat and was pulling out his spinning wires with almost an actor's flare for drama. Yoko had only time to look up in surprise before he was caught in a silicon web, immobilizing him from head to foot. He snarled, breaking away from Omi, who lay on the floor, looking dazed, but still defiant. 

Barely sparing time for relief, Ken focused on Yoko, ignoring Omi for the moment as he dodged the thin, silver threads of Yohji's wires as he bared his razor-sharp claws. With the practiced grace of an assassin, he effortlessly swatted away the raised gun, letting it clatter to the floor as he plunged his fist deep, the edges piercing through the layers of Yoko's clothes. The other man gave a funny gasp, doubling over. If it weren't for the support of Yohji's wires, he would have fallen to the floor, holding the gut wound as his life's blood poured onto the heartless, white floor.

Ken watched coldly as the man slumped slightly, holding himself up with the force of sheer will. He raised his eyes, hot and crackling like pale green fire. Yoko's face was twisted into a death mask of hatred as he glared wildly at Ken, fingers curved into stiff claws.

"You think you've won…"

"I know it." Ken replied softly and watched as Yohji's wires grew lax around the dying man, allowing him to drop. He stood over the man for a moment in a frozen tableau, eyes as cold as Aya's could be in his handsome, expressionless face. It was as if in that moment, he became the embodiment of what Weiss was: an Angel that had judged a man and found him wanting, the Scythe in Death's right hand.

"Ken…?" Omi's soft voice broke through Ken's icy demeanor, and the boy raised himself to his elbows hesitantly, cornflower blue eyes widening in disbelief. He raised a bloodstained hand towards Ken as if he couldn't believe his eyes.

Abruptly abandoning his death vigil, Ken pivoted on his heel and strode over to Omi, dropping to his knees and pulling his _koi_ into his arms fiercely. For a moment, it seemed as if Omi would not be returning his embrace, but then, on a broken sob, Omi's thin hands rushed over Ken's back before clinging to him more tightly. "Ken…" His name was a breathless litany in his ear and Ken closed his eyes, leaning into Omi's arms.

"I thought you wouldn't come back…"

"I always come back."

"You left me…"

"I'm here."

"You won't leave again."

"Never."

Vaguely, Ken heard Yohji remark, "Damn, I don't know about you Aya, but I'm definitely feeling like a fifth wheel here." but he didn't respond, intoxicated by the faint brush of Omi's lips on his eyes and cheeks, as soft and as cherished as the feel of butterfly wings. 

"Rat.." 

So involved was Ken in making amends and deriving and giving comfort, that he didn't hear the sibilant hiss that emerged from Yoko's lips. His eyes were blazing with virulent hatred and he had not taken his eyes from the reunited couple at all. Slowly, his hand inched towards the fallen gun. 

"Rat. 

__

Rat. 

RAT!" 

Too late, Ken saw the swift jerk of Yoko's hand, gleaming barrel pointing with deadly accuracy at them. Yohji had reacted to slowly as well, bringing his hand up to aim his wires as a curse passed his lips. Closing his eyes, Ken did the only thing he could do. Rolling Omi out of the way, he turned his unprotected back towards Yoko in hopes of shielding the younger boy, eyes gleaming as he waited for the inevitable.

"Aishiteru Omi…" 

__

To keep you safe, I'd venture into Hell itself.

He didn't see the blur of blue that flashed from the side of the room. Didn't hear the rapport of the gun. All he did was hold Omi tightly and wait for darkness to descend.

~*Owari.*~ 

((Hee hee….just kidding. ^_^ I wouldn't do that!!! Sorry, my muse is on pranker mode! -_-;;) 

Tbc.

Okay, second to last chapter (not including epilogue)…yay! I'm almost finished!! First of all, I'd like to thank the people that have given me feedback, as well as the people that have kept reading with me through my very long hiatus. 

Lady Cosmos, if you hadn't IMed me to ask when the next chapter was coming out, this would have gone into my "Indefinitely Unfinished Works" folder and probably never been seen again. Arigato!!!

Caspian, thanks for your input and I'm a sucker for sap so probably, I'll give Yuriko a good ending…but I'm not sure…-_-;; my muse has been playing mind games with me!!

TK Date: Your email was very very helpful and I'm so grateful that you actually took the time to sit down and write that! It made me feel fuzzy as well as alerting me to some weak points in my fic. And Manx was doing the interrogation bit is for her to make sure that Yuriko won't rat out Ken (no pun intended). It was basically a test to make sure Yuriko's loyalty was on the right side and that she would do what was right for Ken and therefore, Weiss. Technically, since she knows about almost everything, she's a huge threat to Kriticker so…yeah.

Kiyonekawaii, thanks for sticking with me thus far and always reviewing! You're wonderful!

Youjibarracuda: *evil grin* this part's up…you only have three weeks and you have to post again youji-bear, or else I get to pester you 'til the dogs come out! I WANT MY NEXT CHAPPY DAMNIT!!! lol…*hugz* luv ya, but that won't keep me coming after you with a saber if I've posted the last chapter to this and you haven't posted yours! I will SOOOO not write until yours is out!! *stubborn glare*

Koyuki Aode, *poutz* I want "In Your Face*…it was hilarious (even tho you haven't worked on it for how long?!) Argh, poor Nagi, living with a horny Schu!!! . IS NOTHING SACROSANCT??? And where _are_ you?? I never see you anymore! I'm not feelin' the lovin' here! What, twice this whole WEEK???

To all my readers…wow, what the heck are you still doing here?! o.O lol, you guys have been great, I so enjoy writing for ya'll! You're the only group that hasn't given me too many death threats! ^_^ tee hee. Whelp, I'm half asleep, half delusional, and half on a coffee high (yes, three halves don't make I whole….) so I'm off to bed! I hope you guys like it, and if you do…well, there's a little link on the bottom of this page that goes to a little box where you can write your thoughts, opinions, death threats, flames…*sweatdrop* I'd love hearing from you!!

Alrighty, night and (while I'm still thinking of it) happy post-Valentines! And if you, (like me) are Valentine-less, well, I don't need a guy anyway! (sour grapes, eh?) I'll post authoralerts later…I'm too blasted tired…and hyper…argh.


	8. I came for you

I came back for you…

Pain slammed through Ken as a heavy weight pushed him against Omi, the strain lancing up his shoulder blades and tearing against his tendons. He could feel several of his vertebra crack with strain and a muffled groan murmured past his parted lips…

…to be answered by a fainter, more feminine echo. 

He heard Yohji cursing, the metallic hiss of a wire snaking across the room…then only Omi. Omi screamed in his ear, his azure eyes alive with fear as he clutched at Ken's jacket desperately, fingers splaying first against his chest then desperately shaking at him. "Ken!! Ken, are you okay?!" 

Vaguely, Ken knew his arms were loosely encircling the younger boy, his forehead pressed against Omi's neck. And for a moment, the sensation of being this close to him again, so close that he could feel Omi's frantic heartbeat, so quick that it was like the purr of his motorcycle engine…the sensation made him never want to leave again. 

"Ken?"

"I'm fine." Less frantically now but no less urgent, Omi's fingers traced against his cheekbones then slipped under his chin, gently lifting his head until they could see eye to eye. Ken smiled faintly, a familiar boyish glint sparkling briefly in eyes dimmed by exhaustion and disappointments. "Omi, I'm fine…" _Now that you're here._

The weight against his back slipped lower, and the sound of knuckles hitting against the concrete floor was the merest whisper of gossamer wings, lost in the roar of blood pounding in his ears. But Omi's gaze snapped behind him and a glint of metal appeared in his hand, from the sleeve of his jacket. His eyes narrowed slightly…then widened I horror, the pupils dilating until black seeped into the cornflower blue of his orbs, replacing it with shadows and darkness. He whimpered involuntarily.

"No…."

Ken managed to twist his body until he was sitting up, pain still arcing up his spine in violent waves but…he was alive…?

Omi's fingers dug into the leather of his jacket and instinctively, Ken tightened his arms protectively around the younger boy, using his eyes to trace the path of Omi's gaze before settling on— 

Blue.

That was the first impression he had. Mangled sky blue locks gleamed against the remorseless gray of the concrete, spilling into, tangling around two small, delicate hands. Her blue dress was matted, torn, and yet, she looked oddly familiar, a young girl whose features were masked by the harsh glare of the overhead lights. And yet….she was someone he might have known once, seen before. She twisted once, trying to rise, and then fell again, hitting the ground with a dull thump as her palms slipped on the red liquid on the floor. She didn't cry out though…just gave a wheezing gasp of pain before lying absolutely motionless but for the shallow rise and fall of her shoulders.

"Tot-san!!"

_Schrient's__ bitch?! Ken's memories immediately crystallized into glass and he raised his hand protectively, claws gleaming like holy oil against the blinding glare of the lights. But Omi pushed to his knees, reaching out for the younger girl with an outstretched hand. Ken caught him as he stumbled, helped drag him to his feet, one shaking step at a time. Omi clung to him as if Ken were his lifeline, leaning heavily against his chest even as Ken leaned on his shoulders. _

"Schrient…"

"No…she's a…a friend this time, Ken." The blonde's exhausted eyes filled with anguish, "Please…?" Wordlessly, Ken nodded, shouldering the younger boy against his chest. Limping together, supporting each other, they made their way across the floor; briefly, Ken wondered if it wouldn't be better if he left them alone for a moment. 

Omi knew her obviously, cared for her in some way…an odd twist knifed through his gut. Maybe he should…

Omi's hands tightened on his immediately, almost as if he had read Ken's mind. Those haunted blue eyes snapped immediately to Ken's, "Stay." He whispered.

Ken stayed. 

Together, they knelt, almost falling next to the bundle of bedraggled cerulean in weariness. Omi's fingers twitched convulsively, as if wanting desperately to touch the girl, but at the same time, unable to, guilt, pain, misery stamped plainly in the pallor of his face. Ken bit his lip, loosening Omi's strangle hold on his arm long enough to gently turn Tot over on her back, brushing the matted tangles of hair away from her white cheeks.

Her eyes were tightly closed, trembling in pain as her tiny hands fluttering helplessly towards the growing bloodstain against her chest before she abruptly dropped them down, a single tired signal of surrender.

"Tot…" Omi's voice was a single harsh, whisper. "Tot…san…"

"We…iss?" The single syllable cracked as she gasped in pain, choking as coppery fluid stained against her lips, splattering hollowly on the ground. Her eyes opened, large and wide against her white skin. "Iie…O..O..mi…kun…des ne?" She smiled to herself in quiet delight/pain, a single gasping, choking sound emerging from her throat. "See…Tot….I…remembered…"

Tears streaked the mud against Omi's cheeks as he fumbled awkwardly for one of her chilled hands, chafing at them as if still trying to bring warmth back into her faltering body. "I'm so sorry…this…" His words came out in a blurted rush, a torrent of sound and self-contempt, "My fault. All of this. If I wasn't trying to prove myself—"

"No!" Ken's voice overrode Omi's instantly, seconded by Tot's feeble, but no less vehement hiss.

"Baka  wa…Omi-kun…." Tot repeated breathlessly, "Baka…des."

"What?" Omi whispered, "This is my fault. I promised I'd help you get back to your Papa and Schrient…I lied to you…to get you to help me…because I was selfish…" Tot's fingers came up slightly off the floor, the barest flicker of denial.

"You promised…to send me to Papa…right?" Tot's head lolled slightly to one side so that she was staring up into Omi's tortured face. "Ne…Omi…kun…? But Papa…he isn't here anymore…" Tears slid from the corners of her eyes, seeping into the dirty blue of her hair, even as a black film spread across her bright sapphire orbs, dulling them, darkening them with death. "I…I want to go to Papa…I…I want…to see my Papa again…"

Then she smiled, a blindingly beautiful smile that transformed her face into that of a young girl's, freed of fear, freed of resentment. She laughed, a quiet, sobbing sound that pattered across the bloodstained floor and bullet ridden walls in a tone of sweet benediction even as more tears slipped across her dirty cheeks to join the darker crimson pool that had spread. "Arigato…Omi. For sending me to Papa…." 

Her eyes slipped past him, body arching once in pain, then an incredulous expression of pure joy cross her face, her eyes widening. For a second, her fingers twitched upwards, reaching for something…someone. "Papa…?"

Her hand slipped, splashing a little in the red pool of blood as her eyes went black. 

**

Ken looked up from Omi's bowed head as a hand fell on his shoulders. His eyes slid towards the quiet violet orbs looking down at him, and wordlessly, nodded.

"Is it done?" Ken asked quietly.

"Ah." Simple. Cold. Yet infused with unmistakable meaning:  Nawari and Yoko of the Black Hand were dead effectively ending the child trafficking…in this area at least. Aya glanced down at their youngest team member, a single question flickering on his face but Ken waved him aside.

"Take care of the children. Don't let them see…." Ken swallowed a little, but Aya merely nodded, walking purposefully towards the loading truck where Yohji was already lifting the tattered children from their prisons, setting them onto the floor to await the authorities. Knowing that they were in good hands, Ken turned his attention back to Omi, gently running his gloved fingers against the younger boy's spine. 

"Omi…"

"She wanted to die…?" There was disbelief in Omi's voice as he stared at the girl, the pupils of his eyes dilated and confused….dazed…shocked. A wealth of emotion, all negative mulled in the his heart, and Ken could see that he was tearing himself apart with guilt and anger, everything directed at himself. 

_God…_

"Omi."

"It's my fault, isn't it? That—"

"_No it isn't!" Ken's harsh statement caused the cornflower blue eyes to snap back to his tumultuous green-gold ones. "No. It isn't. There was nothing that either of us could do…she threw herself in front of me…__you, Omi…because she wanted you to live. She wanted to find her…her Papa…and she wanted you to live because she knew that you wanted to live! God…don't torture yourself like this…" Ken could hear his voice break slightly as he added, "Don't make the same mistake I did…"_

Ken held his breath, hoping, but not expecting Omi to understand. For all that he was a young man of amazing talent and capability, he was, at heart, almost only a boy, lost, afraid, sometimes naïve. Could he ever understand? But once again, he had underestimated Omi….he had always underestimated him, it seemed.

Omi closed his eyes, nodding once as Ken pulled him into his arms, rubbing his back to dispel the fear that had deadened his skin to a cold white. The younger man's whole body shook, silent tears spilling into Ken's collar, seeping across his skin, but he made not one sound, except for the occasional heaving gasp. Ken felt hands latch onto his waist as Omi pulled him closer, almost as if he was trying to burrow into Ken's chest…his heart, trying to meld them both into one. Trying to forget in the warmth that sprung so easily between them.

After a while, Ken pulled away, reluctantly holding Omi at arm's length. "We have to get out of here…"

"Hai." Although his eyes were still puffy, Omi nodded obediently. As he got to his feet, he watched silently as Ken carefully picked Tot's body up, her eyes still open, staring sightlessly up at the ceiling. Carefully, he brushed his fingers against the lids, shivering at the dead, rubbery feel of her skin. 

"Goodbye," He said softly, "Tot. I hope you're happy, wherever you are." They walked towards the entrance, not looking back as the police sirens began filling the room with the resounding metallic screams. Not when cries of 'oneesan' burst from the lips of the littlest child, crying, reaching for Tot's ruined body. Not even when the single cry turned into many, tumbling in forlorn wails that gradually increased in volume until the whole building shook with their sobs, their little fingers outstretched, tears making muddy tracks down their cheeks.

Not once did they look back.

**

The riot of sunlight tumbling against his eye woke Ken up gradually as colors and shadows danced within his eyelids, making nonsensical, whimsical patterns. He stretched briefly, wincing as his bandaged hand knocked carelessly against the edge of the bed, sending an admonishing streak of pain down the arm that Omi had clutched at protectively in his sleep.

Omi.

That thought brought him fully awake as he looked for the blonde…and found him as he was last night, still curled against his side, face pressed against Ken's shoulder. The thought made Ken smile slightly, raising his good hand to brush a few errant golden locks away from his forehead, lingering to brush carefully down the side of his beloved cheek. He closed his eyes, savoring the feeling of waking up with someone by his side.

(flashback)

_"Why did you come back, Ken?" Omi's voice was quiet in the darkness of the night. The scenery flashed past in waves of color and muddied grays as they sped past on Yuriko's Kawazaki, heading for the erstwhile flowershop. Home. Ken savored the sound of that one word, the one word that meant the most to him in life, the single word that defined most of who he was, what he could be. "Ken." Omi's fingers tugged against his waist. "Why'd you come back?"_

_"That's a stupid question, isn't it?" Ken finally answered, his voice mild. _

_"No, it isn't. I want to hear it." There was an uncharacteristic stubbornness in Omi's voice, insistent and demanding. "Why did you come back?"_

_"I thought it was fairly obvious." His back was to Omi so the blonde couldn't see the mischievous light that flashed through Ken's eyes…not that he could have otherwise; it was full dark already._

_He was rewarded with a light smack on his shoulder, a careful one that was mindful of the burns there. "Ken…this isn't a laughing matter. I want to kno—"_

_"I came back for you," Ken interrupted, sobering slightly, "Not for __Persia__, not for Weiss. You."_

_There was a pregnant pause, and Ken almost missed Omi's painful whisper. "Why would you come back for a killer who used an innocent girl to accomplish a mission?"_

_"I didn't. I came back for you." Ken's voice matched Omi's in tenacity now, all trace of humor gone, "We went over this. You didn't kill Tot, Tot saved you. No matter what you think you are, you're still the one that brings me sunflowers before a mission and coffee at night. You're the one that I want, you're the one that I…" He hesitated, wondering if Omi was ready to hear the words, then decided to go for it. "You're the one that I love. You're the one that I'll protect with my whole heart." His voice took on a vague, disconcerting note as he added softly, "As for being a killer…well, you're in good company. It's not like my hands are clean either…we are Weiss, aren't we? Our hands can never be clean."_

_Omi's arms tightened around his waist. "None of that matters Ken…not if you leave…again…"_

_"I'm not going anywhere."_

_"Yakusoku?"___

_"Ah…yakusoku."___

Ken smiled softly down at the sleeper. There was no way he was leaving again. He almost ruined his first chance, almost killing himself and Omi in the process, if not literally, from heartbreak, at the very least. Besides, he didn't think it would be physically possible; his emotions all tied to this one place, this one person, with bonds almost as strong as steel bonded chains.

A tousled blonde head stirred…and a single blue eye peered sleepily up at him. Ken grinned lovingly, pulling Omi closer in his arms. "Mornin."

~Owari~ (for real this time)

AN: GOMEN NASAI FOR TAKING SO LONG!! ^^;; ara…um…brainblock…;_; I think it was an unconscious reaction for not wanting to kill off Tot…but we all know that she would not have been happy if she was still alive...where would she go? What place would she have, a member of Weiss? I think not….

I might have another chapter, a final epilogue that ties up Ken's loose end with Yuriko and Omi making peace with his past/Tot's memory…if I don't get too lazy. ^^;; anyway…yes…

Thx go out to:

**Bashou****-san (no, there are no actual pairings in the series…it's just widely accepted RxK, that's all…-_-;; which makes this fic an odd ball of sorts….but yeah, I like the pairing so oh well! :-D)  
****Izanami**** Hime,   
fuzzish,   
B-chan,   
T-bird,   
Yui-mag,   
TK Date (Dude…I love ur critiques….=^^= You always include great suggestions that help my writing…thank you so much for supporting me thus far!)  
****Link621  
Eerie  
Jim Morningstar  
Hiiragi  
Chisa Yume  
Koneko ****Bombay****  
CrystalStarGuardian….**

Thank you for reading, minna san! The Weiss fandom has been very supportive of me, and I just want to say THANK YOU!!!!!!!!


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